The Nanny Files
by Wildwood Rose
Summary: Mulder needs a nanny. Modern day A/U. Scully's POV. TEMPORARY hiatus
1. Meet Greet

_Chapter 1: Meet Greet_

**FALL SEMESTER**

Walking up the steps to Georgetown University Hospital main entrance, I think, _this has to be one of the worst days in my life_. In fact I think that it is quite possible that I will die aged 48, and that I am in fact having a midlife crisis. Gone are my rights to walk through the side entrance like the rest of the student body. Not that I think I want to be in their presence EVER again. Who am I kidding? Here I am looking to take just a year out of med school, but in actuality, I don't even want to study in this place again. Let alone set foot. But it's only a couple of minutes to 7:00, fingers crossed I won't bump into anyone I know too well; I don't usually at this time.

Too late! A sea of eyes focus on me, even the baby seems to be judging me. I avert my eye contact, keeping my eyes focused on my nude suede boat shoes. Left in front, right in front, left in front, right in front. Until I reach the lift. My body sighs with relief, I quickly press the floor I want, 11. I don't hold it for the out of breath nurse. The lift closes in time for me to catch her disbelieved face. I inwardly curse myself, I should know better, vital seconds to a persons' life lost. I know I should know better and yet for the past couple of years or so; I haven't known who 'I' am, and I certainly haven't acted like I know better.

The lift door dings, and I look to move before I realise it's not my floor, only level 5. A trio of scrubbed up doctors in mid conversation enter the lift and I avert my gaze to prevent theirs. My shoes are _really_ interesting. And it is the first time that I have noticed that the leather tie is a darker shade nude to the rest of the shoe. I count the remainder of the floors until I reach my intended one. When I look up, I realise I am alone again. I breathe out another sigh; I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

1117 is the office that I am looking for. I gaze at my reflection in the gold plaque by the door. Despite the make up, I still look gaunt. My eyes resembles owls, maybe I was wrong to put so much mascara on. I check for lipstick on my teeth. None. Pinch the skin around my eyes, scrunch my hair in an attempt to give it more volume, add a bit of life to my presence. God knows it needs it. I make a face. It is a bit better. My eyes focus on the writing on the plaque: 'Dr F Mulder. Psychologist'.

I knock hard on the door and wait for a reply before entering.  
"No one here but the FBI's most wanted", I hear from the other side of the door. I let out a girly giggle, it feels like forever since I last smiled, let alone laughed.

I open the door cautiously. I have been at SOM for two years and I have never met Dr Mulder. I've never heard students mention him. I wouldn't have known if he existed, if I hadn't been informed that he was looking for a nanny. I also wonder what sort of being I am going to see on the other side. How old? Black, White, Asian? Tall; short; fat? Brunette; Blonde; Black hair? Blue; green; hazel; brown? I roll my eyes at myself, _Dana it doesn't matter what he looks like_.

His back is to me. I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding; place a 'trust me with your kids' smile on my face; and extend my hand in anticipation. "Hello, my name is Dana Scully. I'm here about the nannying job". But he doesn't turn, he's focussing on whatever it is in front of him, my smile begins to fade.

"Tell me something Dana" he asks swivelling his chair in my direction. "Do you believe in extra terrestrial life?"

And I falter. And it's not so much the question that has got me stumped. He is just so young! _And beautiful_, and young. Much too young for three children.  
"Uhm"' I try to find my voice.

But he laughs. He's laughing at me, but I'm not taking offence. Too much has to be taken in. He's floppy golden brown haircut, lopse to the left side of his face. His smiling blue eyes, shaved chiselled jaw. His shirt sleeves rolled, exposing his tanned arms. One of them extends towards mine and shakes it. It's a feeble handshake from my part because I cannot remove my eyes off of his, which have now turned a shade of green.

"It's ok, I'm kidding. Just a patient of mine. Fox Mulder, nice to meet you" he says, and leans over to something on his desk.  
"Einstein's Twin Paradox: a new interpretation", I realise he is reading last falls essay title. "It was a page turner" he says. And I don't know if he is joking or not because my mind still seems to be trapped in this haze, where my common sense has left my exterior and is banging on my outer shell to wake up from this trance I found myself in the moment I laid eyes on him.

"Yes well I passed top of my class" I say, hoping he will be impressed.

"I'm sure you did". And with my body mimicking my hand, I pull back from him defensively, because I am not sure what he means by that.

He rests his weight on the desk behind him, and his thrust out pelvis becomes the centre of my attention.  
"I'm not sure this is the right job for you. I am looking a full time nanny. There is no way you would also be able to juggle studying and lectures.

"No, I'm taking a year out. I've ran out of funds...so?"

"Oh I see. I'm sorry to hear that". And he sounds genuine. He removes his old fashioned Harry Potter glasses from his face and looks to be in thought of how to figure out a solution for me. "We'll it's 5000 a month, Friday evenings and Saturday days off".

I do a quick sum in my head. IF I decided to come back, I should make enough to cover my final year of med school.

"...You'll get your own room, food. I will actually need you to do the grocery shopping...". He purses his lips and knits his eyebrows together, making him look like a five year old. I stifle a laugh. He repositions his glasses, as he jots down something on a piece of paper.

Honestly who still wears glasses like that?

"Sorry" he returns his focus to me. "I have your email address, and I will send you a list of expected duties. I'm just not entirely with it today" he rubs his face with both palms, as if trying to spring life into it.

Now he mentions it, I recognise the dark circles, around his eyes, mirroring my own concealed by the make up.

"So yeah three children; Yvo and Xoë are twins, both four, and I'm not going to lie, they are little monsters. And Theodore is three months. He has not evolved to monster yet", he chuckles and becomes lost in his own joke.

_He's really beautiful_, a voice in my head reminds me in a whisper.

Eventually he remembers that I am also in the room. "So when would you be able to start, or have I scared you away?"

"No.I can start asap"

"Great, well why don't you come for a trial shift this weekend? I'll email you my address with the paper work. And hopefully sign this weekend". He glances at his watch. "Sorry I have a 7:15. Do you have any quick questions?"

"No sounds fine to me" I smile.

"Great". He followes me out the door. His hand positions itself on my back and it is all I could do not to jump at his touch, that sent electricity through my spine, and some how reached the ends of my nipples? Thank god for the layers of foundation, because my cheeks are on fire. "See you Saturday" he says, not showing whether he knows the effect he is having on me. But for a moment, I swore he was going to lean in and kiss me.

"Right Saturday" I manage, and run for the lift.

I steal a look back when I reach the lift doors; he is leaning against the door frame watching me. I wave a hand and instantly feel foolish. _Come on lift_. And then I realise I haven't called it. _Idiot_; and I slyly go to press the button, as I am sure he is still watching me.

I run straight into the lift the second it arrives, into a form who I guess is male by its build, it reeks of cigarettes. "Sorry" I mumble, not making eye contact, but retreating to the safety of the lift corner, willing my emotions to get a grip.

**_Please let me know your thoughts via a review, and whether I should continue._**

**_I know I shouldn't be starting a new one when I have others to finish but studying is so boring and I am major procrastinating. this is my first attempt of writing something happy and written from Scully's POV, although I don't know how long that's going to last._**

**_The rating is M, I don't know if that will be correct but i'd rather have it like that just in case. I have a vague idea of how I can lead on from this and still kind of follow the show, but as I say let me know your thoughts._**

**_Lastly, if I do continue with this fic, updates will be slow as priority goes to the ones I have already started_**


	2. ETC

_Chapter 2: ETC_

My focus remains on my shoes until I am back on the front steps of SOM; albeit with the small smile playing on my lips, and the heavy thumping of my heart against my tight ribcage.

_Fresh air. _I take in an apt lungful, in an attempt to soothe my irate hormones.

"I forgot to tell you a time". I jump at the sound of his voice so close behind me, his not breath wisps the back of my neck.

"Pardon". I turn to him, he looks a tad out of breath, he obviously rushed to catch up with me, and what about his 7:15?

"If you come round at 10:30 on Saturday".

I let out a small laugh, he could have told me that in the email. "You could have told me that in the email".

He frowns, but then laughs. "Yeah, well I guess I could have". He pauses, smiling at me, before digging into his pocket to pulls out a card. "My cell number…" handing it to me, "in case you need it before Saturday"

"At 10:30" I chirp, and I am glad that he doesn't offer to shake my hand, because don't think mine would move, I am so rooted to the spot in awe of him.

He gives me a flash of his all American smile, before ascending up the steps towards the main entrance. "Oh" he turns to stop me again, but I haven't gone anywhere. In fact he catches me mid admiring his back profile. "And I'll email you the contract later this evening".

"I'll be at my computer waiting in anticipation"

He smiles and shakes his head, before disappearing back into the building.

~x~

The joke is that I am actually staring at my 17" mac screen, waiting for his email. My mac is one of my few electronics that I have not sold; along with my iPod Touch, but the screen in so broken anyway, that I wouldn't get nearly as much money for it. My camera, sold – why do I need one anyway, when I have my iPod? iPad, again, why when I have my Touch? My mac netbook that I used for lectures; video camera – I am not sure why I have one anyway. And my phone, which surprisingly was not Apple, but Blackberry - I sold because, I got a free Samsung phone anyway with the sim card. Although it can't connect to the internet, or tell me what the weather is going to be like for the next five days; it makes calls, texts, _and_ it has Snake!

Most importantly, it has given me some cash to eat – on the rare occasion that I do; and give a little bit of rent money to Miss, my sister, whose square box room I have been habiting for the past few weeks. There was very little in the room as it was, apart from a sofa and a pole – don't ask. But we removed the cushions from the sofa, and it now makes a pretty decent bed. All my boxes and suitcases are aligned around the room, making it even smaller; but the room size doesn't bother me. I would call it cosy, and perfect for wallowing away in. Which I have been doing since day one.

It's good that I am moving out. Not for the obvious reasons, but also because I don't know how much longer Miss would let me get away with my wallowing. I still have quite a bit of cash left over, which I am hoping will tie me until Dr Mulder's first paycheck. _Dr Mulder_. His sea blue eyes take over my thoughts, and my mouth turns into a full watt smile. It hurts, and I fight to draw it back in. I roll my eyes at myself. I have been doing that all day, and my poor face muscles aren't used to it after 21 days of wallowing. Stretching back on my sofa/bed, I reach for the contact card he gave me earlier this morning. It is beginning to bend at the edges, because of the amount times I have played it through my fingers.

Fox W Mulder

Psychologist

Georgetown University Hospital, DC

His telephone numbers and email address follow below. They are different from the one I was given. I must have his _personal _email address. A little girly squeal escapes my mouth, my legs jiggle in excitement, over the thought of it.

"Oh for the love of God Dana. Get. A. Grip. You're worse than a love sick school girl", my sister teases from my room doorway. Her porcelain skin is covered with a thin Japanese print kimono, her big chocolate brown eyes and painted red blood lips are smiling at me; framed by her bouncy crimson curls. She is a painting, and its unfair how she inherited all the beautiful chromosomes, and height! She is almost 6 foot and I'm lousy 5ft 3"; I hate going out with her, all the men ogle her and make me feel so inferior.

I grab a pillow behind my head, and aim it in her direction.

"It's nice to see you smiling though" she chuckles, and moves to lie on the opposite end of the sofa. She wiggles her feet under my nose.

"What do you think the 'W' stands for?" I ask absently.

"What?"

"Fox 'W' Mulder"

"Maybe walrus. I mean seriously, who calls their son, Fox?"

I kick her side gently. "He looks nothing like a walrus" I say crossly.

"Warthog?"

My email alert stops my retort.  
"Ooo do you think it's from him?" she asks.

"Pass it me, and we will see".

Missy reaches behind her for the laptop. A new message: 'F Mulder: Expected Duties etc'. I read over the message before reading it aloud.

"Hi Dana, it was nice meeting you today-"

"Oooo" Missy interrupts, and I nudge her.

"- it was nice meeting you today. We take the children to day care every weekday, from 8, and its probably about 6:30 by the time we reach back. Because of this it would be great if you could have the children's dinner ready for when we get back-"

"Can you cook Dana? Or are these poor children going to get food poisoning"

I roll my eyes at her. "- also to have them ready for 7:00am, with everything they will need for the day, e.g. spare change of clothes, diapers for the baby etc." _…?_

"Etc?! What does etc include?" I fret.

Miss turns up her lips. "Beats me? I don't think I have even been in the same room as a baby since you and Charlie were ones"

I bite my lip. I'm going to have to find out what etc means before Saturday. "So in the day time, general cleaning of the house-"

"Please I saw your uni apartment, and even pigs live better"

"Would you stop reminding me of my short comings after every line. Besides, it was not because of me that the apartment was such a mess, it was the three other people who lived there".

"_Right_"

I grumble and shift my attention back to my laptop screen. "Don't worry that wont include my room-"  
"Actually I wouldn't mind snooping around his bedroom" I giggle.

"You mean his and his wife's bedroom, where they probably rock the bed every night"

My heart and smile fall from the high they have been on. "I didn't think of a wife", I think aloud.

"You never do", Missy comments, and I shoot her what I hope is a life destroying stare.

Now I think about it, it did say, _we_ take the children to work.

I clear my throat, putting the thought aside and continue. "-Children's washing, ironing etc. Playing with them, and getting them ready for bed. As we already discussed in my office, you will have Friday evenings and Saturdays off, apart from this Saturday of course. Oh and grocery shopping, we will sort out food bills and everything on Saturday. I can't think of anything else, so we will all see you on Saturday, 10:30" I finish, and glance over his email again.

Missy's foot wiggles against my cheek. "What, are you upset one of the duties isn't to be his sex slave"

_Yes_. "No" I say pretending shock. "…I'm just thinking that I really should figure out what etc means. Maybe I'll call Ellen?" I ask myself aloud.

"Or mom?"

I shoot my sister another life destroying stare. "I'll do that right after you ask her the ingredients in her lamb chowder"

"Point taken. Now I have to get ready. If you do go to Ellen's, don't forget to lock up". She pulls at the hem of my black lycra cycle shorts so that they snap against my leg.

"Ow!"

My eyes scan the rest of the email, and I see there is a line of colour underneath. I scroll the page down to an image of smiley tooth children, and a newborn baby lying across their legs. They all have dark brown curls, even the newborn is sporting a mass of hair for someone his age. The tips of the twins' hair are slightly golden at the curl, most probably from the sun. She has inherited her father's eyes, he has the same piercing blue eyes as my own - _or most likely the mother_, and the baby's are shut.  
"Cute kids" I think aloud.

~x~

"Aunt Dana!" My godson, Trent bounces at the front door in his Mooshie Monster PJs for five seconds, before giving me a hug and a hard sloppy kiss.

"Mmmm, thanks for that Trent"

I hear Ellen's laugh from behind, she has a dishcloth and a plate in her hand. "You'll have to watch out for him when he hits adolescence. He _really_ likes you". She moves behind me to lock the front door.

"Ellen, that's gross"

Trent, who is unphased by our conversation, bounces happily around me in a circle, like the Masai. He has a hold of one my wrists, so I am forced to also follow his circle. "Aunt. Dana. Can. You. Read. Me. A. Bed. Time. Story?", he asks inbetween jumps.

"He was just about to go to sleep before you called, so I told him that he could stay up for you to read him his bedtime story. If he asks really nicely"

Trent halts, and his grip on my wrist thankfully loosens. "I did" he whines, and then leans in to give me another hard sloppy kiss. So hard, I think it may bruise.

"Of course" I say, following him through the apartment to his bedroom.

Ellen and I have been friends since my family moved here when I was fourteen. She had an unplanned pregnancy during her last year of college, unwanted by the man who fathered it, but she still decided to keep it, or him. Lucky for her, her parents understand human error, and brought her an apartment in DC, for her and Trent to live in. As there is no rent to pay, she can get away with a part time job as a receptionist until Trent starts school.

"So, what do we owe the pleasure of you appearance, Miss Scully". Ellen asks me when I walk back into the living room; Sauvignon Blanc and Kisses waiting.

"Argh, please don't lecture me too Ellen, I know I am a bad godmother, and friend"

"I'm only kidding", she rubs my back lovingly. "What's up?"

"A really hot guy has asked me to be his nanny" I blurt out excitedly.  
"I mean, I have been offered a nannying position; looking after both sex four year old twins, and a three month year old baby" I reificate, in a more calm tone.

"By a really hot guy" she chides.

Thinking of Dr Mulder, my face flushes red, and the ends of my mouth curve.

"Ooo by that reaction a really really hot guy".

"I don't even know how he can be a father to three children. I mean he looks _so _young!" _And beautiful._

"Uhm exhibit B, right here" Ellen raises her hand. And I smile, because despite all the help from her parents, it has had to be tough raising Trent alone. Not being able to go out without getting a baby sitter, unless she actually takes Trent with her. And I instantly feel guilty for not offering to babysit more often. Especially these last three weeks, where I have just been wallowing away in self pity.  
"So how old is he anyway?" she asks.

I couldn't say, although it has been a top topic on my mind. I happily picture his beautiful face. "I would say older than us, maybe by 2-3 years, but he is definitely not over thirty".  
I smile at Ellen's face, carefully watching mine.

"He's married?"

"Yes. I mean, I don't know but he has to be in some kind of partnership to have a three month year old son"

"Hmm maybe she is going back to work or something?"

"Maybe? But I don't know anything about babies, and I am not asking my mom. So I have my notebook…" I fish my notebook and pen out of my handbag, "impart your wisdom on me"

~x~

Its Friday night, and for the past three Friday's, I have spent them wallowing in Shoe Box; sleeping, reading, watching TV on my laptop. Although because this is my last night residing in Shoe Box, I have had Missy and Ellen convince me that I need to celebrate.

So we're at a bar, in the Eastside, too far away and expensive for anyone from university to go to; so I feel fairly relaxed, and I am actually having a good time.

"More shots". Ellen joins me at the table, Missy has abandoned us to work her magic on the pole. She had all the guys ogle her the moment she walked in; needless to say, they are now all putty in her hands.  
Ellen rests the drinks on the table. She got a babysitter especially for this evening, so I have to enjoy myself.  
"Salt, lime, tequila. One, two, three, go"

We have only been here for a couple of hours, and including this one, I have had three drinks max, but already my head is starting to get dizzy.  
"I think I could do another round" I slur. Ellen drunkenly cheers in agreement. "My round" and I stumble towards the bar.

"Hey sweetheart-", some guy tries to stop me by grabbing my hand, but I just push it away.

"Naawww, don't be like that I hear him complain".

"Another round of tequila shots" I ask the barman, and it must have been slurred because he is smiling at me. "I think I am going to have to I.D. you pretty young thing".

I can't help the smile that emerges on my face. I love it when I get I.D., and getting mistaken for an under 21 year old, even if it is just flattery.

"Dana Katherine Scully", he reads the name off my drivers licence. "Now, can I tell you-"

"Dana?", I can see the voice behind me is a massive cock blocker to the bartender, as he retracts and busies himself preparing my drinks.  
"Dana?"

I turn, to see Ethan...?

My heart sinks, and dread starts to overflow my body. My instinct is to run, and due to my alcohol consumption, I do.  
"No Dana, wai-" he catches my wrist.

"Is this guy bothering you?" The waiter has reappeared to be my knight in shining armour.

I p go to open my mouth, but then catch sight of Ethan's concerned puppy-dog face, and honourable chocolate brown eyes. Ethan who would never hurt a fly; who would always help me with my homework, or if I didn't understand something; give me rides back home when it was raining… I think an idylic picture of him is being painted.

"No" I mumble, and rest my weight against the bar. I bring my hand to my head, its hot and throbbing from its mini scare, I pull it away instantly, going cold, when I wonder _who_ else from my university is here.

"Who are you here with?" I snap harshly.

"My older brother is in town from New York City; I wanted to take him somewhere nice. You?"

"Oh just a friend from school, and my sister. That's her, who everyone is ogling at"

He doesn't follow my point but his gaze sinks to the floor, before returning on me. "I'm not", and his eyes are hopeful.

"Look Ethan. I can't stay and talk, my friend is by herself waiting over there" I point to Ellen, waiting patiently at the tucked away bar table.

"That's ok. I just wanted to say 'hi'. So 'hi'". He waves, and it's as awkward as my wave to Dr Mulder the other day. And I am overcome with laughter at the memory of it.

"Hi Ethan". His cheeks are redding. "I'm sorry" I say, feeling guilty, because I know how it feels. "It was good bumping into you", I stay turning my attention back to the Barman, and mine and Ellen's drinks. He is eyeing Ethan dubiously.

"I tried calling you; but I couldn't get through" Ethan tries again.

"Take the hint buddy", the bartender mumbles. And i see Ethan's cheek flush again out of the corner of my eye.

"No", I say shaking my head, "I, I changed my number", and it's the truth. "I…"

"Oh well, maybe I can give you my one, and I don't maybe you can ring me if you ever want company, or to talk"

_No_, I think, but I sympathise with him. "Ok". I lean in to take the pen from the bartender's breast pocket, he gives me a devilish smile. "Here right it on my arm". _That way if I ever bump into him again I can use the excuse that it washed off before I could store it in my phone._

But I did bump into Ethan again. About half an hour later on the dance floor. My backside bumped into his crotch accidentally on the overcrowded dance floor, but I don't think that he placed himself there accidentally.

I hear a horse groan escape his lips, and it sends tingles all up my body, not to the same degree as Dr Mulder mind you, but sill. Maybe its because of all my wallowing; because I haven't had this sort of contact with someone in nearly over two months; that I know and have always known that Ethan has had a thing for me; that we do the same course, same age…etc; that we just fit. That I push back again, eliciting another groan.

All of a sudden his hands snake around my body, trailing down to rest on my hip bones, digging me further into him, so that I can feel his arousal for me, hard against my backside. I don't push him away because it feels _SO_ good. And when I turn to face him, eyes closed; my arms drape across his neck, and with all my pent up sexual frustration, suck his face off. My hands grope his upper torso, tingling in appreciation over his young, fit body.

"Dana" my sister's voice awakens me from my frenzy.  
"Dana", I begrudgingly unlock lips with Ethan.  
"Ellen needs to get home, she's…" I watch Missy's hand point, to see my best friend swaying on the dance floor like a zombie.

I leave Ethan and his erection on the dance floor. He makes me promises to call him. I nod in our kiss that I will, before pulling away.

~x~

Back in Small Box, alone. Ellen is changed into her PJs and tucked in her own bed, with aspirin and water on her bedside table, for when Trent wakes her up in the morning. Missy has gone back out, but I opted to stay at home; trial shift tomorrow, with kids. I have to be on form.

As my head smacks down on the pillow, fully clothed, I am thankful that I packed, what little there was to repack of my boxes and suitcases, ready for the early morning start tomorrow. It will take us about an hour to get to Potomac, MD.

Five minutes pass, and the room is still turning, my mind is buzzing, and my body still begging for sleep, or even better a release. However, the dull ache in the pit of my lower abdomen prevents sleep from taking over me. If I was sexually frustrated before, it's no where near the level of frustration I am currently at. My body had been tantalised with the promise of release back with Ethan on the dance floor, only for the moment to be stolen away from it; and now my hormones have come back with a vengeance.

I let out a cry, knowing that no one but myself will be able to hear it.

But someone does, because my back pocket is vibrating. I struggle to release the phone from under my weight. I stare groggily at the bright phone screen. It's from an unknown number:

Why didn't you come back out to play?

…Or can we play in private  
Ethan x

I let out a groan. _How the Fuck did he get my number? _I decide to ignore it.  
But after ten minutes of tossing and turning, and being on the verge of tears over no sleep...or release; I change my mind.

There is a knock on the door twenty minutes later.  
I answer the door in the same clothes he saw me in an hour and a half ago. My lips crash on his before he is even fully through the door.

It's not until his hands are tugging my mesh top over my bra, do I think that maybe we should close the door.

Ethan's weight crushes my body against the closed front door, and I am reminded of how hard his want for me is, my pelvis buckles back into his, hard. He arches my back, so his cock is digging harder into me. I hear him put the chain on the lock.

Satisfied that we have at least attempted to lock up, I guide him clumsily into the bedroom.

The dials of Ethan's super fancy watch highlight that it is after 4am when there is a loud banging noise at the front door.  
"Dana!"  
"Dana. God Fuck it, open the, damn door. I need to pee"

"I'm coming" I call, wriggling underneath Ethan's weight. He grunts, but doesn't wake up.

Walking to the front door, I hope that it is just Missy at the door, as I am starkers.  
"Missy? Is it just you? I don't have any clothes on"

"…Yesssssss, just open the door, before I do it out here"

I unlock the door, and my sister rushes through the door towards the bathroom. I go to lock it, when it hits another form. My whole body goes cold, there is someone on the other side of the door.  
"Hello?" I call wimply.

"Hi Danes, its just me. I'll wait for you to put some clothes on"

I breathe out a sigh of relief, I know the voice, its just Tigs, the closest thing Missy has to a boyfriend. He's actually quite cool, and understanding, we have gotten pretty close in the last three weeks. I quickly spy the blanket on the sofa and wrap it around my body.  
"You can come in now"

"Great", his huge form encloses me in a hug, and he presses a kiss on my forehead, before making his way towards Missy's bedroom.  
I shuffle my way back to mine. Ethan's body takes up the whole sofa; and I don't fancy wiggling my way back under. So I exchange the blanket for his shirt. It reeks of alcohol and sweat; but I don't really care as I know I smell worse. I'm making my way back to the sofa in the living room when something on the floor catches my eye, it must have fallen off the armrest of my sofa/bed.

Slumping on the living room sofa, I open my laptop I left on the coffee table. I had accidentally left it on standby, and the Mulder juniors' image illuminates the room; their happy faces, smiling at me.  
I reread the email subject, for what feels like the hundredth time this week:

'Nanny Duties etc'.

_Etc?_ I huff. When it came to me and Dr Mulder, I wish etc meant more than knowing how to change his son's diaper. Which I have youtubed and googled, and have come to the conclusion that, it is disgusting.  
"Night Sis" Missy calls, making her away from the bathroom to her bedroom.  
"Night Miss"

I study the piece of card in my hand. 'Dr F W Mulder'. I am reminded of the wisp of his breath against my neck, and how it made me feel, what it made me wish I could do to him, or what he would do to me.

**_So I know I said that I wasn't going to do anymore to my other fics until I finished Kindling, but I was asked to write another chapter, so voila. Just to clarify, Mulder is a practicing psychiatrist and teacher at the university, the whole 'FBI' was just said as a joke. Like always, sorry for any typos, until next update._**


	3. Saturday's Child Up the Garden Path

_Chapter 3: Saturday's Child Up the Garden Path_

Missy's car packed, I wake Ethan up fifteen minutes before my sister and I have to leave, to avoid awkward goodbyes, and 'thanks for last night'. I will wake Miss, five minutes before we have to leave; I have learnt she's not the best person in the morning.

I can see by Ethan's reaction, that at first, he doesn't know where he is. I must then come into focus though because - and I am proud to say, that a soul-lifting smile spreads across his face. His arms reach out for me, and bring me into his chest. I comply, awkwardly, because I haven't had time to think how I feel about last night – well I do, it was great, and _so_ well needed, but I'm not really good at this stuff… He nuzzles my ear, and interrupts my worrying thoughts; and I relax happily into his embrace, it's fuzzy, _comforting_ and warm; a smile spreads across my face; and I tighten his hold on me. I like this haven he has created for me.

He turns me around by hips so that I am facing him, entwining my hand in his, he studies my face; tucking some hair behind my ear; looking at me as if I am worth a million dollars. I watch him lightly kiss each of my finger tips.  
"I think I have died and gone to heaven" Ethan whispers.  
I roll my eyes and move to get up.  
"I'm being serious". He pins me down; so that I stare into his eyes, they're earnest, so I feel that there is maybe some truth in what he's saying, maybe.

He leans in and kisses my collar bone, before trailing down.  
"You have to leave", I mumble, my hand feebly stopping his decent.

"Why?" he asks, sitting us both up, worry grazes his forehead.

I smooth out his frown with my finger tips. "Because…" I start bashfully, and advert my gaze anywhere but on him.

"Because?" he persists, and one of his hands cups my chin to bring my gaze back on him.

I smile shyly. "…Because I have work", my gaze dropping again, my hand anxiously twiddling the blanket

He leans in so that his breath tickles my neck, reminding me of Dr Mulder. "Where are you working?" he whispers, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"It's a trial shift…as a nanny" I flush, all the heat in my body moving to my cheeks and neck.

"Oh?" His whole body leans back in shock. Not the profession he expected. But I expected this reaction from him; however, it still didn't prevent my obvious embarrassment.

We sit in silence for what seems to be ages, before he tugs lightly on a few strands of my hair.  
"Why don't you come back to-"

"I'm not going back" I snap, standing up and removing myself from him. And he gets the message, conversation over.

~xXx~

"I know you are not smiling because of meee". I jump at Missy's voice filling the forty five minute silent car journey. I guess she has properly woken up, or her hangover has worn off.

I smile shyly, my cheeks colouring over being caught out.

"You thinking about ol' Warthog?"

I laugh at my subconscious getting angry at Miss's statement because Dr Mulder is not old, and most definitely does not look like a warthog, but it's all jest to me. "No, I wasn't actually", I say chuckling.

"_Then_" she pushes, like she is trying to encourage paint to dry quicker. With her brown aviators taking up the majority of her, she has one hand on the steering wheel, and the other resting on the opened window of her royal blue 65 Mustang, aka, her baby or 'Sally' – I know, original.

She may as well be encouraging paint to dry, as I suddenly become very self-conscious about talking to Miss about boys, and what we do with them behind close doors. Before three weeks ago, I had never had this kind of close sisterly relationship with her. She left home the moment she turned 16, and aged 12, I was still very much a tomboy, running around in the dirt and sand with my twin brother Charlie and all his boy friends. Lets just say, I was a very late bloomer.  
"Ethan" I whisper embarrassedly.

"Hah! Shitting knew it!" slamming the hand on the steering wheel, with a megawatt smile on her face. I raise my eyebrow at her overjoyed reaction. She clocks my expression. "Sorry, Tigs and I kind of had a bet".

And I'm horrified. "Well that's great Miss" I say sarcastically, and silence fills the car once again.

"_Sooooo_…" Sherlock is still on her high.

"So, what?"

"Was I right to give him your number?"

I don't know, was she…? I had come to the conclusion it was Miss that gave him my number, it's not something Ellen would do – who I still have to call to check up on - and I am not particularly angry at Miss… a relishing moment from earlier this morning flashes across my mind, causing the corners of my lips to turn, I squirm as the feeling pools between my thighs.

Miss chokes out a laugh. "Well from that reaction, I know you definitely had sex".

Melissa! I scream, my beet-heated open-eyed face flies on her, but the words don't come out in my shock.

She snickers. "You're so shitting pure Danes. I'm happy for you".

"You're happy I had sex with Ethan?" it's my turn to snicker at her now.

"No, well yes I am, but that's not what I am talking about. I'm just glad that… - no wait I'm not going to say it…" she trails off and I cock an eyebrow at her, challenging her to say what is ever on mind. "No…" she shakes her head, her smile gone, "it was kind of harsh".

I spend a few moments thinking what it was that she was going to say; my eyes widen and my heart sinks, when my mind gets a gist of what it might be.

"What I did was kind of shitty" I mumble. And it's a revelation for me, the first time I have admitted my wrongdoings out in the open.

"Yeah Danes" she says after a while, "it was shitty".

…

We don't really speak until we arrive outside the 'house', which is in fact a mansion.

"Holy fucking shit" Miss says stepping out in awe, removing her sunnies to get a better look. I follow her gaze, and she is right, holy fucking shit.

We do a silent dance around each other as we unpack my things on to the sidewalk. When there is nothing left, I turn to my sister to find her looking at me, her fingernails clicking against each other, as if she is itching to say something. Her mouth is an upside down smile, I think she might be _crying_. A stab of guilt washes over me when I think how she had initially been a last resort. And it is then I realise, that my estranged sister may have become my best friend.

~xXx~

I scuff my green converse nervously on the pavement.

"I just want you to know Danes, I'm really fucking proud of you", and before I can reply she hops into Sally and speeds away.

"Bye" I whisper, as I watch her car tires screech down the road…  
I take notice of the rest of the houses down this street, if that is what it can even be called, its more like a private road for the three other 'houses'; Dr Mulder's being the last one. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere… I no longer have a car, and a worrying thought creeps in my mind, that it _might_ be a problem with two four year olds and a baby, and grocery shopping… so I'll internet shop. Besides he shouldn't assume, I am- was in med school, what student can afford a car? I give the mansion the once over again, _probably him._

"Shizer, where am I?" my thoughts mumble in their growing paranoia. There is no German in me that I know of, but my old college room mate was German, and like Missy, she liked to swear, a lot.

Despite my efforts in consoling myself, I can feel the unwelcome sour of dread form in the pit of my stomach, as I eye over my multiple suitcases and boxes sprawled out on the pavement, looking like the trash that I am.  
My cheeks fire, as I look back at the magnificence of the house in front of me.  
Tears begin to form in my eyes, as I look over my old tatty school leavers jumper, that was once a vibrant red, but now faded to a mellow brownish orange – much like myself.  
My worn out jeans, stained with tangerine-orange paint from when I helped my dad paint my bedroom back when I was 14.  
Lastly, a tear drops as I inspect my scuffed up lime-green converse. Comfort clothes, I put on for moving in, running around after children; but now all I feel is out of place.

"I don't belong here, what am I doing here?" my thoughts mumble again through my tears. How can I be a nanny for someone else's children, when I can't even look after myself? I'm not even particularly fond of children… My mind starts to hyperventilate and although surrounded by fresh air, I fight to breathe. Gasping, I dig into my jean pocket for my cell. It's not too late for Miss to turn back around.

"Miss" I cry down the phone when she picks up.

"Danes…? What's the matter?"

"Miss, youhavetoturn round and pickmeup…Ican'tdothisIcan't…I don't belonghere" well aware that only 40 percent of that is coherent.

"Dana" she sighs. "If I pick you up, where will you go? Back to my apartment, in my cramped spare room so you can mope and cry before you realise again that you have to fucking get up and on with your life".

I scowl down the phone. I am in no mood for a lecture, especially from _her_. Who the hell does she think she is going all parentel on me?! _But…_, I am vaguely aware that my emotions are making me over react, but still, I ignore the voice, not being able to contain the words bubbling in my mouth as I shout vehemently down the phone, "thanks, but I would rather not take advice from someone who fucks men for a living" – that's not true, but its out, and I am in no mood to take it back.

"Fine" followed by silence is her simple retort, but I can tell by her voice she is hurt; she doesn't put the phone down and I start to squirm over what I said.

"Fine!" I blurt out, it's a measley response but I can't think of anything else to say other than, 'I'm sorry'. Where will I go now that I have lost Miss too? A cab and Ellen's…? – who I still have to call! A cab and Ethan's?  
I have nothing more to say to Miss, and I really don't want to upset her more than I already have- that's been typical Dana ethos though lately, upsetting everyone I care and love. So, I just hang up on her and go to call a DC cab- _shizer! How much is that going to cost?!_

I don't know what it is that makes me look up past my own nose, but I do, and the voice on the other line, everything, becomes white noise because He is walking towards me. Barefoot and tanned, he wears low rise washed out jeans, and a tight white T that accentuates his muscles; and the sun creates a halo around his whole body, making everything in my body clench.

He has a baby propped in one of his arms too. _Delicious Daddy alert_!

~xXx~

I hang up on whoever I was on the phone to.

"You're early" he calls, sauntering down the garden path, and I smile hearing the voice that I have been anxious to hear again since Monday, 7:16.

I seem to get stuck in a daze for a few seconds, but snap out of it fast as the voice inside my head reminds me of what I probably look like. Turning slightly to the left, I check my reflexion in my cell screen, it's not a great substitute mirror, but even using this, I can see that my face is blotchy. Turning slightly to the left, I make fast work with my sleeves to try and smooth out the imperfections my crying and irate anger has caused.

It's too late though, he is behind me; I know, because all the hairs on my back prickle.

"Are you ok?" he asks.

"Yeah, I just have something in my eye" I lie, turning slightly towards the direction of his voice, so as not to be rude".

"Here, let me see".

I roll my eyes. "No it's-", my whole body stiffens as one of his large hands brings it to face his, I feel like lead, but he turns me with ease. I focus my eyes on the baby, not daring to look up into his father's. The baby looks like an ordinary baby; he hasn't seemed to change much from the photograph, same blue eyes and brown hair. But he is frowning at me, judging me, wondering who this mess of a woman is spoiling his well groomed lawn.

~xXx~

"You have to actually look at me so I can see what it is in your eye", he chuckles.

There he goes again, laughing at me. My eyes slowly reach his and I watch his smile turn into a look of concern. I look away, but his fingers catch my chin. They are rough but soft at the same time, and bring my gaze back to his.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes", I wobble. "I'm just…"._Missy_. "I'm just…" SHIZER, SHIZER, SHIZER. I can feel those betraying tears forming, I try my best to fight them, but that seems to make it worse, and they spill out all at once, complete with dribble.

"Hey, hey, hey" he soothes, and moves his fingers to the back of my head, his hand bringing it into his embrace, muffling my cries. He's a lot taller than I remember, only reaching his serratus anterior – the muscle under his pecs, but then again, I am a short ass.  
The aroma of soap, deodorant, and the a sweet scent of what I guess is him, fills my nostrils, and I could happily get drunk on it. So much so, that I bury my head further into his toned chest. Which tenses instantly, and I pull away, moving back a few paces. My face flushes, again, knowing that I have definitely crossed some employer/ employee line.

His face is etched with confusion…and something else. He then looks a mixture of wanting to say something, or move closer, but it's unclear on whether he will actually act on it. It doesn't matter, because it is at that moment that his son decides that he doesn't like the sight of me anymore and starts crying.

"You've started a trend" he comments, he has managed to compose himself, and looks neither pleased or displeased.

His terse tone makes my face flush red, again. "I, I'm sorry…I can go". I start walking backwards away from his stare but I stumble over a suitcase or something behind me.

"Watch it" he seethes, his hand grabbing for me before I land on my bottom or head, or both.

So, once again, I am in his embrace, and once again I am intoxicated by his smell. But it doesn't last long; his son doesn't enjoy sharing him - _but who would?_ - his cries get louder.

"Where is your car?" he asks.

What! He actually wants me to leave; I guess making the baby cry within five minutes of me meeting him did it. "Uhmm", I watch his frowning eyes scan down the street for the car he won't find, before they land back on me. "I don't have one", I say carefully. "I got dropped off" -by someone I am sure won't pick me back up.

"Oh" he says again, in the same terse tone, and he finally attends to soothing the wailing baby.

My eyes fly to the ground, my face and neck on fire over my embarrassment; I wish the ground would swallow me up.

"Fox?" My eyes and eyebrows raise to the woman outside the front door.

~xXx~

His wife? _No she's too old to be his wife. She must be a grandmother._

"Mom?"

His mother. The older woman strides down the garden to path to meet us. "Oh, what's wrong with his little lordship? She question in a baby voice, eyes set on her grandson, completely ignoring my presence.

My eyes fall back down to the ground in guilt, where I think they belong in the presence of the Mulder family, my eyes catch his on he way down, and I think I see a hint of sympathy in them.

"Dana this is my mother. Mom this is Dana" he sighs, obviously annoyed that he had to introduce someone he is not going to hire, let alone fire. "Would you mind taking Theodore, while I sort out, a problem here".

Great! Now I am a problem. I consider running away and just leaving all my crap on the sidewalk for the trash, I am sure that is what everyone here wants.  
"Nice to meet you Mrs Mulder" I say sucking in my embarrassment and extending a hand.

"Quite" she says ignoring my hand to lift her grandson out of her son's arms.

"Mom" he almost scolds.

His mother lets out a deep sigh, and accepts my presence. "You look awfully young, do you actually have any experience working with children".

"Uhm…"

"Have you been crying?" she asks sternly.

I don't think my cheeks can take anymore embarrassment before they self combust. "Uhm…".

"Mom, could you please just take Theodore inside", who is only letting out the odd whimper now.

"Alright" she mutters loudly. "One moment you are rushing me out the door. The next you are begging me to stay", you can hear her muttering all the way up the garden path.

"Sorry about that she can be rather…harsh. Uhm…" he sweeps his still shower-wet hair from his face, making it stick up a little. I can see he is trying to think what he is going to do with me, now that he is for the moment stuck with me. Tears start forming again, and I plead them away, but its too late. His eyes widen noticing this, "no, don't start crying again. Let's just get you inside".

~xXx~

I pull the blanket tighter to my form, giving it an instinctive sniff, my nose searching for the comforting and familiar smell of my mother's fabric softener, but to instead be confronted by a cold sterile smell of something that had been washed a very long time ago, but not used. Like my mother's Christmas napkins, when my father brings them and all the other bric-a-brac down from the loft three weeks before the holiday. It's odd…but then I'm at Missy's, my sleepy self tells my even sleepier self, the last thing it will smell of is Moms.

…

I haven't had enough sleep, I cry to nobody but myself, when I feel my body starts to rouse. And I hold on to the precious seconds of slumber because I know that once I am awake, there is no going back. I am vaguely aware of how uncomfortable I am, but I was the doofus for falling asleep on Missy's cramped leather coach. I wonder what time it is, and whether anyone else is awake; I don't panic though, I have never failed to sleep through 'Hungry Frog' as my alarm…but still, suddenly, I am reminded of the unwelcome memory of what initially disturbed my peaceful sleep: me, standing up on the podium ready to speak, I look up into the eyes of my listeners, and it is then I realise, they all know. _No!_ My face contorts in agony as I fight to block it out, I don't want to remember how I felt that day; _it's time to get up_!

And I wake up with a start. Sniffing the strange air around me, frowning at my alien surroundings. Dark wood furniture? Wall to wall windows? Outside? King sized bed? Then my hearing kicks in. Muffled high pitched whispers and laughter. _Children_.  
My mind takes a few seconds to play catch up: me crying…Dr Mulder bringing me into the summer house, not the main one, and why would he? There was no need to introduce me to anymore of his children if he wasn't going to even hire me - I must have fallen asleep on the coach, _but then how did I get into this bed?_ I pat the sheets around me to ascertain that it is in fact real. They are. I groan inwardly, day one of my trial shift at Dr Mulder's and I have already cried and fallen asleep on the job.  
_Ethan! _But my mind gives me no time to dwell on him as it then reminds me:_ Missy!_ And my stomach sinks, as I recall the harsh words I said to her. Shiz! I'm going to have to apologise to her… where did what I say even come from?

I groan again, this time out loud, and the whispering stops. Are they in here with me? I inch closer to the bottom of the bed, peer over to be greeted with a mass of dark brown curls with golden tipped ends, bright Hot Pink lips, and two large pairs of eyes, one a piercing blue, the other an almost sage.

"Hello" says piercing blue, and he smiles, I smile back because he has inherited his father's smile and I can't do anything but.

"Don't talk to her", the little girl snaps and my smile turns into a frown, "_she_ is the enemy, re-mem-ber"

"Oh yeah, I forgot" he says giggling at his slip up, and it's so infectious that I can't help the giggle that escapes my mouth.

She hardens her frown on him, "you're always forgetting" she mumbles harshly, and his smile and laughter also disappears. She then turns on me, eyes now a shade of brown. I chuckle, mood rings, just like her fathers. Her eyes narrow, but I will not be out stared by a four year old.

"That's an interesting shade of pink you have on your lips" I comment.

Her eyes widen in her glee. "It's yours".

No shiz Einstein.

"That wasn't very nice, what you said to your brother"

_Like I can talk._

"I can talk to him however I want because he is _my_ brother, and _I'm_ the eldest"

"Its true" the little boy chirps, but neither one of us shifts our gaze to him, the contest is still in full flow. "She was born a whole for-fi, forty-ie…" he struggles of the number.

"It's forty five, shit head"

I frown, and my mouth opens slightly in shock over her language, but that only makes her smile bigger.

"-a whole forty five minutes before me" the little boy continues, clearly not phased like I am.

I wonder if I was like this with Charlie? No, I never even knew language like that existed when we were that age. I decide that I don't like her, and that I will not indulge her in this game. I blow my breath into her eye, causing her to blink.

"That's not fair!" she screams, standing up in her anger, and it is then I realise, she has also used my lipstick to paint shapes all over her body.

I roll my eyes; did she really think she could outsmart me? "I am so ahead of you, we're in different time zones", I laugh over actually being able to use that line. "I didn't hear any rules specified" I say smugly.

She screams, running out the room, her loud footsteps thumping down the staircase - all that's missing is the slam of the door.

"What does speci, spefied mean?" a little voice asks from underneath me.

"Specified?" I take a few seconds to think of a toddler rated explanation. "It means said clearly, or given, or, like, I could have said, you didn't say there were any rules" I answer, not convinced that I have explained it properly.

"_Oh_" neither is he. "You're really smart. What are-" he holds up my PMS pills.

"Yvo!" his sister summons from downstairs.

"I gotta go" he says, getting up in a flash, his body also covered with Hot Pink drawn-on shapes. I shake my head fondly. I decide I like him.  
I then look round the room to assess the damage; my bag has been ramsacked, its contents strewn across the floor. My new Dior Hot Pink lipstick is merely a stub, and I see it has also been used to decorate the windows as well as their bodies.

~xXx~

It takes me almost twenty minutes to scrub the lipstick off. I have to give them credence, when they say waterproof, they really mean waterproof.  
My bag repacked, I set to find Dr Mulder. I walk around to the front door, it felt too intimate using the back. I ring the door bell, and wonder where the rest of my stuff is, noticing it is not on the sidewalk where I left it. I hear foot steps, and then commotion, father arguing with daughter. I scoff, if they are arguing age four, God knows what they are going to be like in ten years time! "Xoë" I hear Dr Mulder's voice through the thick wood, "would you just move out the way so I can-", it opens suddenly and he has to catch it from making a loud bang. It looks like I have caught them mid-deadlock, and it takes them a while to recognise me at the door.

"Oh, its _you_" she comments, arms crossed and unimpressed. Seriously, what is up with this kid, she acts like she's ten times her years.

"Xoë" her father warns, she merely shrugs her shoulders at him.

"Hello. Again!" Yvo bounces in chirpily, and I smile at his warmth and enthusiasm.

"Hi" I say, and everyone is silent for a while. "Uhmm…where is my stuff?" I ask pointing to the uncluttered front lawn.

"Oh, I put it all in your room"

_My room_! So he does want me stay, or is just really desperate… I move my gaze to his daughter, who is still standing arms crossed, glaring at me; I know I shouldn't, but I glare back.

"Come in", Dr Mulder breaks the silence, and I shuffle in through the tight space between him and his daughter. "So, I take it you have met everyone?" He closes the door behind me.

_Everyone meaning no wif_e? I don't know why I don't just ask, 'where is your wife?', but what if she is in hospital, or dying from some life threatening disease… I'll bring it up when there are no kids around. Not that I think I will be alone in a room with Dr Mulder, but maybe we'll share a few words after bed time, I can ask him then.

He's looking at me expectantly, crap, what was it he asked me?

"…Yep, I had a very efficient wake up call" I chuckle.

"I'm sorry; I did tell them to keep out" he flashes them an annoyed look before resting back on me. "I guess they were so excited to meet you".

"It's fine…I'm sorry I fell asleep", I flush.

"Yeah, well, I guess you needed it" he says politely.

"Are you staying?" Yvo's voice thankfully interrupts our strained small talk.

"Uhmm…for the trial shift…?" I search Dr Mulder's face.

He nods. "If we haven't scared you away?" but the joke seems strained and he only offers a polite smile.

"After you moved all my stuff into a room", I joke nervously. "I feel guilty you doing it all by yourself; some of those suitcases were really heavy".

"Ah it was nothing" he says, tensing his biceps.

_With those two, it would be_, I think, my eyes feast over them momentarily before focussing back on him. He's staring right back at me, and I think angrily… I flush, wondering if my hungry eyes had been caught out. Regardless, I need to stop this teenage-type infatuation of him, oggling the boss is not in his contract.

"So is she staying?" the little boy asks his father, clearly not understanding an answer other than 'yes' or 'no'. Dr Mulder's green-leaf eyes find mine, I feel myself getting lost in them, I don't think I could say no even if I wanted to.

"…Yes" I say slowly, "I'm staying".

"Yay!" the little boy shouts. Well at least I know one Mulder family member likes me.

"Yvo" his father scolds, placing a hand on him to keep him still. "Theo is sleeping, if he wakes up before his two hour sleep, you" he pokes his son in jest, a beautiful smile gracing his features, "are changing his stinky diaper".

I hear the little girl snicker, Yvo stands to attention, giving his father a salute and then pretends to zip his mouth. Both Dr Mulder and I chuckle over his actions, and then share a glance and a smile.

"Well do I get say in any of this?" Wednesday Adam's joins the conversation again.

"No" her father says simply, "and the same thing applies to you, you wake up your baby brother before his two hour nap, you change his stinky diaper".

"Ha, ha"

"Shut up shit head"

"Xoë-" Dr Mulder starts to scold.

"-what have I told you about using that word", she joins in mimicking her father. Obviously she gets told off for swearing on a regular basis, she and Miss will get on like a house on fire. _Missy_, I think mournfully and my stomach plummets again.

"That's it, twenty minutes time out. In my study, now" he points in the direction of a room which I guess is his study.

"What!" she shrieks, "twenty minutes, why?"

"Ten minutes for your language, five minutes for being a smart-ass mimicking me, and five minutes for not making our guest feel welcome"

"I thought she was our nanny not our guest. If I knew she was leaving, I would have been nicer" she mumbles.

"You've earned yourself another five minutes young lady. Now go" its not loud, but its stern, and she goes without another word.

Yvo and I have been silent through this whole exchange. When she closes the door, he turns his attention back on us.

"Sorry about that" he rubs his face wit both palms, and I reminded of how tired he looked in the office that day. I guess he really does have his hands full. "She…she… she get's really angry sometimes, not that that's an excuse… If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try and get half an hour kip" he says, his eyes heavy.

He glances at the clock and its _3:15_ in the afternoon! Shizer, I didn't think I was asleep that long. "Oh God", I cry, I bring my hand to mouth, remembering what he said about waking the baby, although it wouldn't be a punishment because changing his diaper is technically my job. "I didn't think I was asleep that long!"

He chuckles at my reaction. "Really it's ok, like I said, you must have needed it".

But I'm still mortified. "Please, sleep for as long as you need", I insist desperate to make up for my slothness.

He chuckles at me again, and then focuses his attention on his son. "Come here you", he says, scooping him up before turning him upside down. Yvo lets off a set of infectious giggles. I laugh, and Dr Mulder instantly halts his movement and stares at me like Ethan did this earlier, like I'm worth a million dollars. I blush profusely, I have been told numerous of times how lovely my laugh is, but still to illicit such a reaction from _him_.

"Daddy" a suspended upside down Yvo dampens our moment. "All the blood is going to head".

He tickles his son. "Going to whose head?"

"My head, my head, all my blood is going to my head" he squeals in delight. Dr Mulder, flips him back on his feet, and after a shake, Yvo is right as rain again and swinging on his dad's arm.

"Correcting their grammar is something that is really important to us", the 'us' does not escape my attention , "so if you could do that also…"

"Yeah, of course. I was going to say their language is very advanced for children their age".

He smiles. "If you're talking about Xoë's, shall we say colourful language; they get that from nursery".

"Where do they go to nursery?" I ask, wondering what kind of place would have children exposed to that language.

"You know the FBI J Edgar Hoover building".

I nod. "By sight".

"There. My mom is horrified that I send there but they are exposed to people from all walks of life, and I not only think its important but character building too, even if they do come home with a few words I'd rather them not".

Yvo's head flies in my direction, his eyes big. "Tommy Carmello, has new swear word every week".

"Has 'a' new swear word" his father corrects.

"That's what I said".

"No it wasn't or I would not have corrected you". Dr Mulder ruffles his son's hair, and then lets out a deep sigh. "And Tommy Carmello is your sister's best friend".

Yvo over emphasises a nod, and we both laugh.

I can see Dr Mulder's frown, I think in shock as I crouch down to his son's eye level. "And who is your best friend?" I ask sweetly. He really is a good looking little boy, large saucer-like eyes, with long thick eye lashes, a cheeky three dimpled smile – the third one underneath his chin, like his father; and a brown mole on the left side of his face, almost where mine rests just underneath my nose.

"Uhm… Deniz Kwama, we pretend we're superheroes. Did you know my daddy has superpowers? He can tell when people lie or not, and when they are he locks them away", he says excitedly, mimicking the closing of bars on a prison cell.

"Is that so?" I look up to Dr Mulder for verification, only to catch him already staring at me. I smile triumphantly.

He blinks, "yeah, I'm also a behaviour psychologist for the FBI".

"Oh, that's why I have never seen you on campus", I flush not knowing whether or not I should be embarrassed that he knows he has been on my mind this week, up until last night, like the only thing.

"Yeah I only teach a couple of classes at SOM, I'm mostly in my office or out on cases".

_Oh, _I think and stand back up. We lock eyes for a moment.

"Anyway, I'm going to try and get at least fifteen minutes of that kip. Yvo, can you – wait, what are those marks on you, and why don't you have your clothes your grandmother put on you this morning?"

"Because she's not here anymore" he laughs, using his father as a climbing post, "finally we can be free!" and fists both hands in the air to add emphasis, but he's not holding on to anything and no one is holding on him, and as his legs loose grip, Dr Mulder has to rush to catch him. Well I'm glad I'm not the only one, I think as I recall him having to lunge for me earlier this morning, although there is a matter of a twenty year age difference. Dr Mulder smiles at me, as if reading my thoughts, and I blush, as he puts his son steadily back on the ground.

"And that's my lipstick they have decorated themselves with".

"Oh. I'm not even going to ask" he muses. "Yvo, can you give our guest a tour of the house while I have a little nap".

"OK!" he says and he grabs my hand eagerly, instantly reminding me of Trent. Its only then I click that they are the same age, maybe if I stay, we can have playdates?

It's not because I was checking his ass, when I ask for the baby monitor sticking out his back pocket, although by his smirk, I don't think either one of us adults is convinced. "In case he wakes up while you are napping", I assure, trying to control my own smirk from forming on my lips.

"OK, well Yvo knows where everything is if he does, don't you Yv"

He over emphasises another nod.

"Yeah, my right hand man"

Yvo tugs on my arm; I look down at him expectantly. "What's your name?" he asks.

I laugh, because we haven't actually been formally introduced. "Sorry" Dr Mulder says distractedly, walking back up to us. "Yvo this is Dana, Dana this is Yvo. Hopefully she will be your nanny, if you guys are on your best behaviour and don't scare her away".

"I won't Daddy".

"I know you wont son", and he smiles at the both of us hand in hand, a hint of sadness in it. And I remind myself that I must look out for photographs during my tour.

"And what do I call you…Dr Mulder? Fox?"

He laughs, and his son follows suit, but I don't think he knows why. "Please, I even tried to stop my parents calling me that. Just call me, Mulder".

"Well it's nice to meet you Mulder".

"It's nice to meet you too, Scully…?" and my voice audibly hitches in my throat and I feel my cheeks colouring over the fact that he has already thought of a pet name for me.

"But you two have already met!" Yvo shouts exasperatedly, expertly timed as always.

**I needed a break from Kindling.  
Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter :~) I was going to spread this chapter over two but decided to make it one long one. Ok so one reviewer said that writing sounded a bit addle headed. So, I did go through the two chapters, and I admit that it does, but I wrote it like that because it is from Scully's POV, and she is not in a good place at the moment, and although she is 24 (I don't think I have written that in yet) she is quite childish; you'll get more of an impression of the type of person she is as the chapters go on… but the writing will improve as she does become the Scully you know and love – I hope :/. I also realised looking for the fic, that I have this under as a 'T' not an 'M', I don't know does anyone think I need to change the rating?**


	4. Saturday Night Fever

_Saturday Night Fever_

Despite what Missy says, I can cook. My mom insisted that I take an extra in Food Tech at school, 'in preparation for becoming a good wife', were her exact words. Well now I am using them to be a good nanny, which I am sure is the last thing she ever wanted me to use it for but, c'est la vie. Besides, I kind of figure it's her and my father's fault that I am in this situation.

No, I have not called my sister, yes, I know I have to, but I just don't know how I would even start to apologise. I did call Ellen though, and she was arguably in a much worse state than I was. Although, apparently it had been _heaven_ for Trent, pizza for brunch, and endless hours watching the Disney channel with his mom – who was technically just passed out on the sofa, but Trent was none the wiser. It was good to have a little vent as well, about my day, and to discuss the subject of Ethan, even if her inputs were just the odd grunt. She couldn't offer me any words of wisdom for Wednesday Adams, and how could she, compared to Xoë, Trent is a saint. I know the most rationale person to call is my mom, but for so many reasons, I am not going to even entertain that idea.

Dinner however, I will. I decide cheesy pasta bake satisfies all taste buds, and get lost in my thoughts whilst chopping the onions, which don't make me cry because I wear prescription contacts.  
_Dr Mulder_…no it's just Mulder. "Mulder", I try the word on my tongue, it's odd. "Mulder", this time in slightly higher pitch voice – no that is definitely worse. "Mulder" in a lower pitch this time - hmmm a bit better. "Mulder", I try it out in my sexy voice, I make a face - that definitely was not sexy. "Mulder", it sounds better in my normal tone of voice.

"Why do you keep saying my surname in funny voices?" the high pitched questioning tone of Yvo stops me dead in my tracks. My eyes fly to the door, no, no one else heard, 'no one else' being Dr Mulder. I can feel my cheeks going red and let out an embarrassed laugh. His father is still napping on the couch, his brother is still napping in his cot, and his sister – thank god – is napping on the floor of the study. I forgot that there was one un-napping Mulder.

Sat on the opposite side of the kitchen island with a pretty hefty book for a four year old, I slowly raise my gaze to him. His neck is craned in my direction, waiting expectantly for my answer.  
"Uhmmm…"

He raises his eye brows at me, no he will not take that as answer.

I let out another embarrassed chuckle. "It, it's a, a game, who can say the surname the funniest".

"Ohhh" he smiles, and closes his book. "Can I play?"

"Yeah, knock yourself out", and for the next five minutes I have to listen to him jumping around the island saying his surname in a varying of voices.

"How about this one, 'MULLLLLDDDEEEERRR"

"Yeah" I fight out a laugh through my headache, "that one's real funny, but remember we don't want to wake up your brother" - or your sister. I don't want her to wake up until her father is too.

"Oh yeah I forgot", he says cheerfully, slapping his head with his hand.

I glance at the clock, 17:20. Although, Theodore's two hour nap has to be coming to end soon; and then as if by magic, whimpers start to echo through the baby monitor.

Yvo's eyes go big, "oops. I guess I woke him up".

~xXx~

I want to hurry before his cries wake up the entire house, but I am stuck behind Yvo who is jumping two steps at a time, with very long intervals. He decides to take the last few, three at a time.  
"Hey watch this", he says, and bends his knees low, gearing up for the big jump; but he misses, and falls backwards. It's a good job that I was behind him, or it would definitely be his cries waking up his father and sister.

"Oops, be careful", I warn.

Theodore's whimpers stop momentarily when I enter the room, but when he sees who 'I' am, he starts crying louder in distress. He clearly has not forgiven me for earlier on.

"Shhh shhh, it's OK. Your daddy is still here, he is just downstairs sleeping", I try to soothe, in vain, as his cries get louder. Shizer…

"Shhhhhhhhh Theo", Yvo reprimands and the baby's cries come to a halt at the sound of his brother's voice, whom, is manoeuvring a chair which seems to have just appeared from nowhere against the cot, "daddy is sleeping", he giggles.

Isn't that what I just said?

"Great!" I say and Yvo beams at his appraisal. I plant the baby onto one hip, who puts as much distance between myself and him as possible, reaching out in desperation for his brother; but in the end I guess his head is too heavy, and it rests defeated on my breast. I check the time on my wrist watch; I really would like to impress Dr Mulder by having dinner ready before six. "Ok, let's go back downstairs and get dinner finished".

"Not yet", Yvo giggles, "you have to change his stinky diaper first".

Theodore's slobbery upturned mouth grunts in agreement, it's leaving a wet patch on my jumper. His wide awake watery eyes still look on at me uncertainly.

"OK". I can do this, _remember the videos_.

Yvo leans across me to wheel across the changing mat so that it is now in the centre of the cot. He points to the plastic mat; I think he has cottoned on to the fact that I have never done this before.

_Careful of the head_, I lay him gently down, and un-pop his sleep navy blue and orange striped onsie to expose his nappy. Theodore's still looking distrusting, but Yvo's small finger point to either tab encouragingly.  
"Now this", his words come out nasally and I look up to find he has his nose pinched in preparation.

Taking in a deep breath, I unfold it. Yvo pinched his nose for a reason. I spy the spare diapers and wet wipes and make quick work.  
"He has to go higher in the air", Yvo points out as I try to put the clean diaper underneath him.  
"You have to put talc on or he will cries and get rashes", he instructs me a little while later.

"OK", I sigh, and move to get the talc when something jets into my eye…liquid…_it's his pee!_ I realise in horror and scream. Yvo is giggling so profusely at me, he almost falls off the chair. Well good, I think, and quickly rush for one of Theodore's wet wipes.

"Why is he crying?" Yvo's question alerts me to the fact that yes, his brother is in fact crying.

"It's probably because I am doing such a botch job changing his diaper", I mumble. I'm going to have to change my contacts, I can't see a thing through my left eye. I quickly fasten the diaper, and try my best to triangle the dirty one, but it's already unpeeling as I half-blindly search the room for the bin.

"It's there", Yvo shouts, and I wearily discard the diaper in pointed out bin.

"OK, let's go", I say, half blindly carrying a snot nosed, dribbling, screaming baby with his onsie still un-popped to my new bedroom; with a four year old who is only in his camouflage green boxer shorts, covered with Hot Pink shapes all over his exposed skin hot on my feet. Well it's not exactly Good Housekeeping.

I lay Theodore down gently on my bed.

"Why is he crying?" he asks again, crouched on the bed and hovering over his baby brother, worry in his voice.

"Maybe he's hungry?" I offer distractedly as I try to think which suitcase I bunged my contacts in.

"He doesn't cry like that when he is hungry", Yvo comments unconvinced.

"Well maybe he just doesn't like me", I mutter.

I sigh out exasperated, it's not in this suitcase.

"I can help!" Yvo offers, jumping off the bed and turning the nearest cardboard box upside down, its contents spewing out the floor. I wince as I hear something break.  
"Oops, sorry"

"It's OK", I say, spying my glass' case; with Theodore's cries getting louder they will just have to do. "Keep an eye on your brother", I instruct as I rush into the bathroom to wash my eye out.  
Yvo joins me in the mirror a few seconds later.  
"I thought I told you to keep an eye on your brother", and I can't keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"It's OK, Daddy is in there with him".

"He is?" and I make quicker work of washing my eye out.

"My daddy wears glasses", Yvo comments when I put on black framed cat-eye grandma style glasses, which actually used to belong to my grandma before she died. I had my opticians change the lenses to my correct strength, and so that they transition in the sunlight. Expensive, but well worth it I feel. "But he calls them goggles", Yvo giggles, following me out the door.

"_Really_, that's interesting", I fake enthusiasm, which is unfair because any bit of extra knowledge about that man, I'll gladly listen to.

I can't help the smile forming on my face when I walk into the bedroom to see, Dr Mulder sat on my bed.

He looks up to regard me, but my face falls as he looks quite serious.  
"I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed some of your antiseptic cream. It seems Theo has developed a rash around his ankles".

"Oh?" I ask and rush to sit at the other side of the bed.

"See, I told you something was wrong", Yvo says smugly.

"Yvo don't be smug", Dr Mulder scolds.

"What do you think it is?" I ask, delicately tracing the top of the baby's head with my fingertips.

"Mhhmm… no don't touch his head", he snaps urgently, and locks my wrist in his hand. I jump at the suddenness of his voice and movement. "Sorry" he consoles, "it's just I think you have something on your hands that's causing irritation to his skin. Did you touch anything that may have caused this?"

I see a light rash start to form on the top of his forehead and grimace. I was chopping an onion and forgot to wash my hand. Dr Mulder's steel eyes make contact with mine.  
"I chopped an onion and forgot to wash my hands", I admit shyly, twisting my hands together.

He stills them with his own hand, and the touch goes straight to my nipple buds. "That's OK. Just remember next time", he doesn't smile, but his tone is sympathetic. He then removes his hand quickly from mine, and I idly wonder if he felt the same jolt, ending somewhere else of course. His eyes move to the floor, and it had to be the suitcase containing my underwear that I had unpacked in my haste. I see his eyes focus on a very padded bra, and feel my face flush in embarrassment.

"Well that's one way to unpack", he comments.

I chuckle nervously, "it's too complicated to even begin to explain".

"Theo peed in her eye". No, it turns out Yvo can explain it in one.

"Oh…" Dr Mulder laughs, "well that unfortunate", and I can't help but join in, until we are all three laughing.

Dr Mulder stands up, and I shyly look over his body again before reaching his eyes. They are looking straight back at me, with something in them, approval? But it disappears.  
"Where is Xoë?" he asks, obviously just realising there is no black cloud ruining our sunshine.

"Oh, asleep, in your office".

His eyes bulge, "_still?!"_ But then he smiles. "Well, we are all going to have fun tonight".

~xXx~

It's 12 fricking 15, in the fricking morning, and she is still awake!

Dinner was… eventful, as promised. Xoë decided that she didn't like onions and refused to eat what I had made, earning us a fifteen minute scream session in the study. It then took her a whole two hours to finish one bowl of pasta. I offered to make her something else, but Dr Mulder wouldn't back down. Serious problems ahead for the both of them when she is older.

Yvo fell asleep just before ten, and is tucked up in his bed. Dr Mulder, who was the first to fall asleep, is silently snoring in an arm chair. I left the side lamp on, so I can at least take pleasure in watching his beautiful illuminated face, while I wait for his offspring to drop asleep. The movie is almost over, and I don't think I can take another animated film. _I would like to sleep_, my body pleads, for the forty-five minutes that I do have left until Theodore's next change and feed - hands washed.

…

12:20, and she has finally fallen asleep! I leave her for another ten minutes, just to make sure she won't wake up while I'm carrying her up the stairs and… attack me? And both end up in A&E.

She weighs nothing - unlike her brother; and lying in her bed, I pull the covers round her still Hot Pink tainted skin tightly. She's darker than her brother, inheriting her father's colouring. Sweeping off stray dark brown hairs off her peaceful face, I think, she really is rather sweet.

"She really is quite sweet when she's sleeping"

I jump at his voice so close.

I turn my body to see Dr Mulder standing over me. My back hairs are prickly. I really have to start registering them more often; they seem my only defence mechanism against him. My flushing cheeks, like now, my worst.  
"You took the words right out of my mouth", I say breathlessly, my heart still beating a hundred miles an hour.

He smiles. "Sorry for making you jump…I seem to do that quite a lot", his lips quirk.

"Just need to get used to your voice is all", _and your beautifulness_; my hormones especially.

His smile remains. "Well, I hope you do", he says leaning towards me, his lips puckered. I watch in monumental trance as he makes his way towards my lips… past my lips, and rests them on his daughter's forehead.

_Humph._ I frown. He could have just asked me to move and not got my hormones all riled up. _Well two can play that game_. I slink the baby monitor slowly out of his back pocket, my fingernails scrape the exposed skin between his jeans, and T as I do. He jumps and I have to suppress my smirk from his shocked expression, with _maybe a tinge_ of arousalment?.  
"Baby monitor", I smile. "Good night", I add quickly, and I escape the room while I am still on a high. I steal a glance back at him however on my way out. I definitely stirred something up somewhere, and I smile at myself wickedly.

~xXx~

I have not had enough sleep. I know that when I feel myself start to rouse, 'Angry Frog', blaring from my nightstand. Maybe it's because while residing in Small Box, I wouldn't get up until midday, the earliest. _Or maybe it's because you have been up all night with a baby_. Honestly, they're like machines, clockwork: eat, burp, sleep, and poop. Although, I think I made the mistake of talking to him during his three am feed, because it took me a whole 45 minutes to get him back to sleep.

"Fuck" I mutter groggily and bleary eyed, searching the night stand for the baby monitor. _It's very bulky_, but I take delight that nothing is flashing red, no graphy thingy bobbing up and down. I clumsily put it against my ear, _there is no sound_? Baby must still be asleep, thank Christ! I rest the monitor against my ear, putting it on loud. Sleep!

…

I wake up later, much better rested, and mentally prepped on what I am going to make for breakfast. Pancakes, everyone loves them; even Wednesday Adam's can't find fault in pancakes, and she can put whatever she wants on them. I stretch happily, letting out an embarrassingly loud, satisfied groan at the same time, well hell, no one can hear me.

I go into the baby's room to check on him, but he's not there? I frown, "that's strange". I surely would have heard him if he made a noise. En-route back to my bedroom, I glance into the kids' bedroom, empty. I frown again. "They must be downstairs".

I skip happily down the stairs, I can hear voices being omitted from the direction of the kitchen – "so my plan to dazzle them with my pancakes, foiled". There will be other opportunities. I stop mid step. "Huh!" Y_ou didn't look in the mirror when you woke up_! I remind myself with horror, and scurry back up stairs. I am not blessed, like Miss. _Missy._ I forlorn… -but there is nothing I can do about it now, as I undoubtedly have my dreadful, totally un-sexy morning face on; three kids and a father to attend to. But I will, must…soon…, "I will…soon".

As I gaze in my en-suite mirror, I wish I could kiss myself on the lips. Someone, or rather some two foot nothing little girl, who I would like to squish, has drawn a mono brow and a moustache on my face.

"That little bitch", I mumble as I route through my still messily half-unpacked suitcases for my face wipes. "What the fuck is her problem?"

I realise that I should probably cover up, "my skimpy silk PJs may not be nanny breakfast attire", I muse out loud, and then huff as I realise I have to find that too in my sea of suitcases and boxes.

…

Mid-decent on the stairs, cell and baby monitor in hand, "I hope it's not too short", I state aloud and stop to worry the hem of my, well Miss's –_ Missy_ - red Victoria Secret satin dressing gown, pulling it further down my thigh, but that only causes it to rise up my bottom. "I don't know which is worse?" I wonder, and then smirk, "I wonder which will be preferred", I muse, happily continuing my decent.

The mahogany grandfather clock in the hall is the first thing I properly notice, 9:20! "Fuuuuuck" I say in quiet astonishment, "how did I allow that to happen, again?" I scold myself, frowning at my cell, although I know my cell is not at fault for my tardiness. I took off my wrist watch, after a near poop incident, whilst changing one of Theodore's diaper last night.  
"Here we go", I mutter for my own self-encouragement, as I reach the open archway of the kitchen; but jump out of my skin when I hear my words echoed ten times louder in the expanse room.

My eyes go very big, and my body goes very cold.

I hone in on Xoë, sitting at the kitchen island, smug, laughing into her cup of juice. The boys, Theodore in his car chair, are also dotted around the island. What looks like bacon, falling out of Yvo's mouth in his glee. Theodore's sound asleep; obviously not everyone found my indiscretions worth listening too. I realise what she has done, and come to my senses. Glaring at her, I drop what's in my hand on the island and search for my actual half of the baby monitor.

The largest room in the house, the Mulder kitchen, opens out into a breakfast room, then onto a lounge/ play room type area, which then backs on to the pine patio, and then the garden.  
Walking further into the room, I find Dr Mulder irately shifting through some violet plush cushions on the dark-mahogany and jade leather couch. He glances angrily in my direction, but softens slightly when he realises it's me, and then more as he takes in my appearance. I would feel honoured, if I wasn't still so mortified about what they had all heard. How much had they heard? Shizer, I called his daughter a bitch. Had he heard that? Did he know I was talking about her? Day two, was going just as well as day one!

Ignoring his intense stare, I rush to the opposite identical sofa to join his search.  
I hear him resume, before he comes to my side to help me rummage through one of their toy boxes. I do not trust myself over this close proximity, and I am right no to, as my hairs and nipples stand on end, pushing through the thin layers of fabric. My whole body flushing, I sit back to perch on my bottom, grabbing Barny to my chest to hide my betraying breasts. I stare at his white sleep T stretched across his defined abs and forearms, his flannel PJ bottoms, not hiding his bottom as well as it should be, as the fabric skims dangerously close. Heating up even more, I lick my lips for moisture, and he has to choose that point to turn and look at me.

"I…", I start. He didn't notice my lingering eyes, and seems confused as to why I stopped. "I…", I try again. I'm sorry I called your daughter a bitch, and I hope to GOD you didn't realise it was you I was referring to.

He's still staring at me, my mouth, waiting for me to speak, but I seem to be tongue tied.

"BOGGIES!"

I jump at the sound of Xoë's voice being amplified across the baby monitor. Dr Mulder tears his gaze from me, onto, I guess his daughter from the look he is shooting.

"BOGGIES!" Yvo.

"Yvo, please don't join in", his father says through gritted teeth, resuming his search. "Why don't you help Dana and I look for it?" He suggests in an all too sweet voice, his hand strangling a soft toy by the neck, and then flinging it aside.

"Sorry Daddy", Yvo giggles, "I promised I not".

"I would not-" he starts but it gets lost by Xoë, shouting another almighty 'BOGGIES'. I wince at the sound. It has to be close. I throw Barny down, opting to save my ear drums over my dignity, and start looking through the children's book case.

~xXx~

After breakfast, at which I ate nothing, because my hunger had since dissipated with this morning's antics. Dr Mulder suggests that we spend the afternoon outside the house. He said that he had some important work that he had to attend to while we got ready, but I think he is just testing me.

I decide to start with twins first, I surmise that they will take the longest. And they do, a whole shizing hour. I spent ten minutes willing them upstairs, another ten minutes begrudgingly giving into reading Yvo some of his book, 'Swallows and Amazons'. Xoë loitered in the background, flicking through another book, pretending not to listen; but I could see she was just as entranced in the story as Yvo was. Whom, pestered me for the next five minutes to read more. I eventually reasoned that we would take it with us, and if the opportunity arrived, I would read more.

I then decided to change tactic, and move on to the baby, who amazingly had been asleep through all of it. I instructed to the twins to get the clothes they wanted to wear together, which of course they didn't, but did continue to follow me into the main bathroom, to comment on everything that I was doing wrong in preparation for Theodore's bath. The twins still had Hot Pink lipstick covered over their body, so decided I would turn it into one big wash. Yvo of course obliged, but Xoë upturned her nose, saying that she couldn't have a bath with boys. I rolled my eyes at her as she stalked out the bathroom to, wherever.

"Dana, watch this one", Yvo instructs. I turn to watch his naked soapy body, do another slide across the bathtub. "Did you see it?" he squeaks, a cloud of soap atop his head.

"Yeah, I saw it", I say tiredly, undoing the sleeping Theodore's nappy, which is of course, full. I sigh, all the towels in the bathroom are white, for God knows what reason.  
"Xoë!" I call, hoping. "Xoë!" Still no reply, I huff. I clock Yvo put more water and bath bubbles in the bath. "Ah, what did I say?" He looks up at me guiltily, and I turn off the tap and take the bath bubbles.

"But", he whines, "it can't be a swim pool, if it only has a little water", he sulks, and he looks so adorable that I almost give in.

"Swim-ming pool, and no", I say, scooping some of the already exuberant amount of bubbles and giving him a moustache. He smiles. "Keep an eye on your brother for me champ".

He nods willingly, obviously liking my new pet name for him. I smile, 'champ', I like it too.

I grab the plastic changing bed off the cot, and poke my head back into the twins' bedroom. Xoë is laid up in the bean bag I had previously sat in, with Yvo's book open.  
"Xoë", I whisper, not really knowing why I am disturbing her state of peace. She looks up, and seems annoyed that I have caught her like this. "Have you got your clothes ready?" She points at her underwear and socks laid on her bed. I sigh. "You have to wear more than that", I coax. She shrugs, and I move from the door frame to her clothes rail. I have never seen one like this, attached to the side of the chest of drawers, and I take a moment to appreciate the ingenious of it. It looks like something IKEA would invent, but from the woodwork, it also looks handcrafted.  
I pick out a beautiful burnt orange embroidered sleeveless dress, with frills on the arms and down the torso. Laying it on the bed, "you'll be beautiful in that", I whisper. But she refuses to remove her attention from the book.

Back in the bathroom, everyone is how I left them.

"Oh Dana, watch this one". And I do, watch his head whack against the porcelain bathtub; that had to hurt.

"Careful", I warn.

"I am", he says shaking it off, and gearing himself for another attempt.

"Ah", my voice stops him. "No more. You're brother is coming in now", and I lower the baby bath in as proof - already elbow tested for its temperature, upon the twins' critique. "Show me how well you can wash yourself clean, I want you gleaming".

"Ok!" he nods eagerly at the challenge, and grabs his flannel.

Theodore looks so peaceful and cute as I lower him, that I have to kiss his motionless form on the head. His eyes however fly open when his body hits the water, and so does his mouth.

So, it's true what they say about not waking up a sleeping baby.

~xXx~

Theodore washed, and dressed in a light blue shirt onsie, smart navy blue dungarees and white socks; baby bag packed, with extra nappies and a bottle of formula. Two down, and it only took me… I cringe, as his sun and moon wall clock tells me it's taken me an hour and ten… I just won't have a shower.

"OK Xoë, time for your bath", I say as I enter the twins' bedroom, Theodore in tow in his car seat. I sigh, placing the baby bag and the car seat on the floor. They're dressed alright. In each others clothes! Xoë, not even in the one's I picked out for Yvo. They smile expectantly at me, waiting for me to react.  
"Ok Yvonna", I address Yvo, and they both burst out laughing. "Go down stairs and tell your father you are ready".

"OK!", he pipes, and rushes out the door, the untied sashes of the dress trailing behind him.

"Xoë, you need to get out of those clothes, you haven't washed", I sigh, frowning. I swear there are more marks on her. She doesn't move, so I kneel beside her and lift up hers- well Yvo's t-rex t-shirt. There are definitely more Hot Pink shapes on her body. I sigh, "Xoë, have you been in my room again".

"It's not your room" she snaps. "It's _my_ father's hou- well actually it's _my_ grandfather's house, so all the rooms belong to him", she says matter-of-factly.

I don't know how much longer I can take of this. I sigh again, tugging off Yvo's khaki trousers, at least she has changed her underwear and socks. "It's not nice to go through other people's stuff Xoë. Now come on, let's have a bath".

She frowns, and looks over me. "Are you having one too?"

"No. I don't have _time_ for a bath or a shower, it's taken me so long to get you lot ready. Your daddy's probably wondering if we escaped through the window and left without him".

"Actually I was wondering what was taking you so long", his voice makes me jump out of my skin, and I steady myself on his daughter. Whose smile, before it turns into a frown, I do detect. She angrily moves her arm out of my grip. "Although, I would appreciate it if you didn't give her ideas about escaping through the window".

My eyes flit to him standing at the door, Yvo by his side, Theodore reaching for him. From the expression on Dr Mulder's face I don't know if he is serious or joking. My eyes flit back to Xoë, eyeing her dubiously, before returning sheepishly to Dr Mulder's.

"I'm not having a bath", Xoë declares, "and if _you_ are not having one, I don't have to have one".

I stiffen, under Dr Mulder's turned quizzical, but amused expression. Great, now he thinks I'm a dirty and a stink. Turning my attention back on her, "you have to have a bath", she goes to stomp her foot, but my hand and voice stops it. "-Would it make you feel better i-"

"Actually its ok", Dr Mulder interjects, and I stare at him incredulously. "I find it hard enough to get her to have a bath", he chuckles again, "and am more concerned about my son in a dress".

Can he not _see_, that his daughter is covered head-to-toe in lipstick!

"What Xoë is wearing is fine. I suggest you change though", he laughs again. I am still in my flimsy attire.

I look back at Xoë, and there is a hint of sadness and defeat in her eyes. I smile at her sympathetically.

"Fine", I snap, suddenly angered at him overriding my authority over Xoë having a bath, and his lack of concern over how she looks; over his son, who is clean and has a minor wardrobe malfunction that will take less then thirty seconds to fix. "I'm going to have a shower, you get them ready".

I want to, but I don't storm out, striding instead, as, by the look on Dr Mulder's face, I have already overstepped a line.

~xXx~

Lunch is so far quiet. I've still not got much of an appetite, and chase my salad with my fork, before settling the cutlery down in defeat. Dr Mulder picked a nice French seafood restaurant in Virginia, in a park gardens near the river. It's obviously somewhere they go regularly, as upon arrival, the twins raced through the restaurant to gawk at the river out back; and the seater greeted Dr Mulder like they were old friends.

I have Yvo and Theodore, sat up in his Victorian-esque buggy, separating me from father and daughter; but it has worked that I am almost staring directly at Dr Mulder. And Xoë, still dressed in her brother's clothes, painted with Hot Pink lipstick, or 'crop circles', as Dr Mulder joked in the car, trying to lighten the mood; she, is in my immediate peripheral.  
I am a 21st century woman, and I am not annoyed by the fact Xoë is wearing what society classifies, 'boys clothes'; but what I am annoyed at, is that she was almost forced to wear her brother's clothes - _and she would have looked so adorable in that orange dress.  
_What's more, she looks like the odd one out in the family; Dr Mulder, Theodore and Yvo, all dressed in their Sunday best, and she is in Yvo's play clothes.  
I showered this morning, but put my dowdy moving clothes back on to prove a point. I don't know what point, and whether it is worth the stares from the staff and other guests at this fancy restaurant, but it is a point.

"Is there something wrong with your salad?" Dr Mulder enquires, and a passing waiter is immediately at my side.

"No, it's great", I assure the waiter. I feel my cheeks start to colour at the table's sudden attention on me. Apart from Theodore's, whose left sock has some how come off, and is sucking hungrily on his exposed big toe, practically drooling over my food.  
Xoë and Yvo, whom obviously recognise the harshness in their father's voice, stare at me like rework spectators at well known show, while absently chewing on their children's weekend lunch time special of poisson pané et frites - basically fish and chips. They both raise their eyebrows, how will _I_ react, they wonder.  
But it is their father's attention that unnerves me the most, his eyebrows sewn together in blatant displeasement.  
"I just don't have much of an appetite", I murmur, I hope confidently.

"You didn't have anything for breakfast either", his frown intensifies, and the sound of his cutlery clattering on his plate, makes me flush. The twins slow their chewing. I'm just not hungry! You don't have to stop eating!

"Perhaps madam is ill?" The waiter tries to help, relieving the tension slightly, maybe sensing Dr Mulder's anger, and my discomfort.

"Is that true? Do we need to get you home, or to a hospital?"

And I forget the monotone chewing from the children, the drooling baby, and the too attentive waiter, and lock eyes on to Dr Mulder. "No", I say through gritted teeth, and instantly reprimand myself to soften my voice; he is my boss, and I don't want anymore attention. "I'm just not hungry".

Our eyes remain in this deadlock, until I have to blink.

"Maybe I just need some fresh air", I mutter, rising from my seat, and placing my napkin on the table. Dr Mulder rises with me, but I realise that it only over politeness, as he slowly sits back down; his intense gaze, still not leaving mine. Ah, who says that chivalry is dead?

"Ah, fresh air!" The waiter joyfully inputs, "that is certain to help".

~xXx~

I opt for the restaurant's bathroom instead of fresh air. Filling the sink up with cold water, I dip my entire face into it for a good ten seconds. I don't even know what was going on in there, between me and Dr Mulder. I scream in frustration into the water. What is wrong with me and respecting structure and hierarchy! _You are not supposed to snap and shriek at your boss!_

When I rise, a lady – older than me, most probably early thirties, polished in a sunny-yellow fitted dress, perfectly dyed baby-blonde hair and applied make up, is staring at me; in what I would not be exaggerating when I say, disgust.

Grabbing a paper towel, I raise my eyebrow at her until she looks away.

"Mommy", someone, who I guess is her daughter, calls from one of the cubicles.

"Coming baby", she moves.

Good.  
I look at my own reflection in the mirror, and it's a sore sight in comparison to her.  
Great, I grimace at the top of my hair being wet. I forgot to pack my brush in our rush this morning, so now it is going to go curl.  
I angrily untangle my hair from the hair tie, it poufs, falling just underneath my breasts... I really should get it cut... Bunching it together, I tilt my head to the side and dip as much of it as I can into the sink water, careful not to get my shoulder wet. I then scoop water with my hands, running it through my hair, so as to wet the rest of it.  
There, at least that way it will all go curly, not just the front. I ring out the excess water as much as possible. Then, I move to my old jeans, rolling them up my calf. Pulling the plug in the sink, I ring out more excess water from my hair, which has already started to curl.

I huff again at my appearance, _now_ my leavers jumper is starting to dampen. So, I pull that off – it's like 80 degrees outside anyway; and my mood lifts instantly. Maybe I was just too hot?

A toilet flushes and I quickly un-button my chequered shirt, so that I am left in just my white embroidery camisole.

I let out a content sigh; I already look and feel better. Less …? Antsy…? Lastly, I fix Grandma Isabelle's glasses back on my face. I still haven't found my spare contacts, but then, when have I had the time!?

Through the mirror, I can see Ms Perfect and her mini-me emerge out of their cubicle and stride up towards the sinks. At the same time, the bathroom door swings open and Xoë steps in. I think she is looking for me by the way she searches the bathroom but when we make contact, she merely eyes me dubiously before heading towards a cubicle. I follow her with my eyes through the mirror.

"You OK?" I call, but of course she ignores me.

The other little girl is staring after her. Compared to her long brushed blonde hair, frilly pink frock, with matching pumps. Xoë's short untidy curls, brother's play clothes, and tan Velcro sandals – oh, and lets not forget the lipstick shapes all over her exposed neck and arms. Xoë is quite a sight. But that doesn't mean she has a right to stare.

I clear my throat, and they continue their walk to the sink.

"I thought she was a boy", she whispers loudly to her mother.

I stare them out of the bathroom. Then silently, wait for Xoë to finish. I watch her wash, and dry her hands. Our eyes catch in the mirror, but we don't say anything, or exchange smiles. I hold the door open for both of us when we're set. Yvo breaks our silence.

"Dana!" He jumps in the air, as if he thought I had ran away. I smile weakly at him; at least someone is happy to see me. His father and the buggy wait close by. I guess lunch is over.

His sister grabs his hand, and runs with him towards the entrance. "Race you", she challenges, and they scurry off, leaving me alone with Dr Mulder. I let out a steady breath.

"Don't go farther than the entrance", he calls, but doesn't remove his frowning gaze from me. I sigh again, and after what seems like forever in stalemate, he pushes the buggy over. Theodore, I see, has fallen back to sleep, and I reach for my bag in the under basket.  
"You've changed?" He observes.

"Just taken off layers", I mumble, stuffing my jumper and shirt into my bag.

"Did you take another shower as well?" He muses.

I huff, I am in no mood to be teased, and no matter how hard I push, my bag is too small to fit the jumper.  
Under hooded eyes, I watch his hands in what seems slow motion, as he takes my bag from my own, and puts it back in the basket under the buggy. I then watch as he folds my jumper on top of it. Simple. His movements are so fluid, but firm, precise and in control; I wish that they would dance exactly like that across my body. I let out a steady breath.  
"Thanks", I grit through my teeth, and then take control of the buggy. I know if Theodore was awake, he would probably whimper and cry, preferring his father, but he's asleep, and I need something to hold on to, a purpose, and an excuse not to speak… I don't know, but gripping the handle bar, I feel more in control of myself and the situation.

He stands, and I push to go, but he grabs my arm with quite a grip. A complete contrast to how they acted just a moment ago! _So he can be rough too_… -How dare him! My brain snaps at my day dream, and I myself snap a frown at him; but am taken a back, blinking, when I am met with his equally intense expression.

"Do you have an eating problem?" He asks sternly.

"…_What_? …No?" I say in shock over the question, pulling my arm from his grip.

His hand twitches and then pulls away instantly, and whatever anger was there dissipates.  
He shakes his head. "I'm sorry".  
He takes in a few breaths. "I'm sorry, I just, it's just… Yvo and Xoë pick up on everything, and I would really rather than not be exposed to someone with an eating disorder", his words and hand gestures terribly apologetic, as if he is kicking himself over his previous words and actions.

He's looking at me for forgiveness... "I understand", I start timidly, but he still hasn't forgiven himself. "Did you not see how much pasta I ate last night?" I jest.

That makes him laugh. I try to laugh with him, but my hormones are distracted by his smile, and I am sure it looks like I am more gaping at him. He chuckles, framing his enticing smile with a hand. It pulls seductively on his lip in contemplation; his green eyes boring into mine. I feel my breath hitch as I take in a steady breath.  
"I'm sorry", he says again earnestly.

"Me too", and I try again to smile back.

"For what?" His mouth quirks, tantalisingly, and I feel that all too familiar flush return.

Snapping at you, shrieking, not eating my expensive and overpriced meal, calling your daughter a bitch…, between today and yesterday, the list is quite expanse, and the day isn't over yet!  
I go to open my mouth, but am overpowered by Yvo, shouting our names from the entrance.

~xXx~

Theodore's whimpers distract me from my lingering watch of the other three Mulders, happily playing in the enormous grass park fountain. There are other children playing in there too, but Dr Mulder is definitely the only adult; his T wet, perfectly snuggling his upper torso, and I am sure is the centre of every other woman's attention in this surrounding area. I spy Ms Perfect, and glare at her ogling him from where she is perched on the grass with her daughter, and who I assume is her husband. _Back off your both taken__! _But not by me...

I hear Dr Mulder's tit-tantalising laugh and refocus my attention back on them; openly laughing as he allows the twins to bring him down to the grass, but I am too far away for them to hear me. Yvo stands on him as if he has staked some kind of claim; and Xoë, Xoë… I feel something inside me goo, as she wraps her fragile arms around her father's neck, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. He turns his head to give her a kiss back. …Theodore's whimpers are getting louder now, but I am hesitant to pull my attention away from their adorable and uncommon display of affection.

I stand, and brush off whatever grass may be on the back of my trousers. Theodore's whole body halts when he realises it is me.  
"You might have to get used to me little man", I mumble, gently easing him out of the cot. I don't know why, he isn't going to understand a word I am saying.

His body is warm from sleeping, and I hold him close to me. I blow my breath lightly on the top of his forehead, and he makes a wistful noise, which I presume is in comfort, because it's not a cry of distress. I do it again, and he snuggles his head against my breast. I smile to myself, see, I can be comforting.

A quick sniff test of his diaper lets me know that it needs changing. Once on the portable changing mat, he starts crying again. I try blowing atop his head again, but it's in vain. I know what's bothering him, it's the sun, and because of its direction, I cannot easily block it.  
His cries get louder, and I look around for something I can use, but I can't find anything that I will be able to hold while changing his diaper. In my desperation, I look over at Dr Mulder for help, but he is too busy entertaining the other two… What do I call him…? Mulder?  
I'm just about to call him over, when a figure stands over us, acting as a shadow for Theodore's eyes, and his cries instantly turn to whimpers.

~xXx~

"Looks like you got your hands full there, dearie".

I look up at the smile from an elderly, but strong African-American woman hovering over me. Her smile is kind, and sympathetic.

"Yeah", I laugh out, and return to quickly change the diaper. Theodore is staring wide eyed up at the lady, so I blow the top of his forehead. I smile in self-gratification as he lets out another one of his wistful noises. He fists his hands, putting one of them in his mouth in quiet contemplation of the lady. Then, kicking his feet, making it hard to place the new diaper underneath him, _he smiles up at her_! I feel a stab of jealousy, which goes straight to my heart; he smiled at this stranger before me.

I look up at her, frowning, just to see what would elicit such a reaction from him. She is playing pee-ka-boo with him. Oh, I think, I remember doing that once with Trent. I return my attention back to the task at hand.

"This your first baby?" she asks.

"No", I say, a little too loudly. "I'm just his nanny".

"What's that, it's her first baby?" A voice comes from behind, and I turn to meet another elderly lady advancing towards us.

"No, she's just the nanny", her friend confirms. I smile at the other lady as she approaches.

"Oh well, ain't he the cutest", she coos, smiling from ear to ear, and Theodore smiles at _her _too! I angrily snap his shirt poppers back on. "I had four, myself", she continues. "Jasmine, here had three. They're all big now; got their own lives, families. Jasmine's youngest; he still lives in DC with his family. They are kind enough to invite me along…", what is it with old people and their need to tell you their life story? "…That's them over there". I look up and turn in the direction of her point.

"Lovely family", I say back to the first woman, and she beams.

"It's just the two of you?" the second woman enquires.

"No", I finish popping Theodore's dungarees. I am _never_ putting him in them again, they are too much hassle then they are worth. "His brother and-"

"-Let me guess", the second lady cuts me off. "Your kids are the one's running around naked in the fountain". I look up, picking Theodore up with me. I let out a soothing blow on his forehead, and he nestles in to me. Sure enough, Yvo and Xoë have stripped down to their underwear, and are shrieking gleefully, winding through the fountain sprays as Dr Mulder chases them.  
"Yep", I say almost hesitantly. "That would be them".

"Four boys. You've got your hands full", the first lady comments, and I laugh at her including Dr Mulder in that number. "Actually, the one not wearing boxers, is a girl. She just has short hair".

"Oh I wouldn't know, she has no head band or clip…", the second lady trails off, and I make a mental note that I must look for such items in her room… If I am going to stay.

I stand up so they can get a better look at Theodore. He sticks his hand in his mouth.

"He's hungry", the second lady comments.

"I am just about to feed him", I say quickly, and inch towards the baby bag as proof.

"How old is he?" The first lady asks.

"Three months".

"He's very small for three months. Where's the child's mother?" The second lady demands, searching the area for a lady she won't find.

I shrug, because it's the truth. There has been no mention of her. I didn't see any photos of her on Yvo's tour of the house, but then it was rather rushed, and he only showed me the places he regarded important. I will have a better look tomorrow, when they are all out of the house. …I mean she wouldn't just leave…?  
I wash of emotion runs through me, and I tighten my grip on Theodore, lacing my fingers through his hair. He nestles the side of his head further into my breast. I'm glad I am wearing Grandma Isabelle's glasses, as my eyes have started to water. I jerk my head in the direction of the twins, their playful screams make me smile, and I blink the tears away. What mother could just leave…?

"It's still awful hot, dearie", the first lady's voice soothes, bringing me back to the here and now. I lift Theodore closer to me, his head nestles in the crook of my neck, and I run my hand soothingly against his back. Her eyes laced with sympathy. "Next time take a hat out with you for the baby, you know what these doctors now say about skin cancer".

"Maybe some shoes, so you can walk him about", the second lady adds.

I nod and smile absently, in agreement. Well yes I do about skin cancer, but I definitely am not going to admit now that I am training to a doctor. How can I be so stupid!? … _You're not stupid_, I console myself. _When have you had the time to think straight since you arrived!? If it's not the kids-_

"And I bet those poor children are running around with no sun cream on", the second lady interrupts my rant, and then continues to list everything else that I have done wrong.

~xXx~

"Are you ok?" Dr Mulder asks. I don't jump, I was vaguely aware of a shadow hovering over me.

I let go of my handful of grass. "Yep", I say non-committedly.

"I see, Theodore is getting his daily greens". Sat upright in my lap, I look down to see him playing a blade of grass through his mouth.

"Shizer!" Pulling it out of his mouth, he starts to whimper. How did that even end up in his hand?

"It's OK", Dr Mulder laughs, "its just grass".

I'm still annoyed at myself though, and look up at him frowning. It falls. Hehasnotopon! He has no top on and he is standing over me! I do a quick survey of the park, and yep, I am the envy of every woman. I spy Ms Perfect and try to suppress my smile, but it's in vain.  
"Got a bit wet?" I ask smiling; taking the opportunity to admire his glistening abs and biceps. He _must_ work out, or play some kind of sport.

A playful boyish smile crosses his face, reminding me how young he actually is. He drops his and the children's wet garments in the basket, so that I can admire his naked back.

"Just came to see if Theodore wanted to play".

My smile falls, "but I forgot his shoes, and you never know what's lurking in the grass", I mumble in my failure, echoing the advise I had just been lectured on.

Dr Mulder laughs again, "it's just grass", he says and rubs a comforting palm on my back, before reaching for his son. His touch is heavenly prickling, and buzzes straight to my nipple buds, causing my smile and blush.

"I haven't fed him yet", I say, fighting through my stirred up emotions. That's why he made a grab for the grass, while I was selfishly wallowing away over my mistakes, he was starving away.

"That's OK, we'll tag", he says reaching into the baby bag, his jeans lower and at the same time tighten over his buttock, making my nether regions quimble. Does he actually wear boxers? "You go play with them if you like, might you know, help break the ice with Xoë".

He turns his attention back to me, and I have to pull my gaze up immediately so that I am eye level with him. I nod absently. "Did you pack a flannel for his spit?"

I roll my eyes, although I know he won't be able to see it through my sunglasses. "No. Another thing I forgot, along with the sun cream, a hat for Theodore, shoes for Theodore, some kind of hair accessory for Xoë, so that people know she is a girl, oh, and-", I start to list, but him advancing towards me, mumbles the words away.

Holding Theodore with one hand, he rests the other on my arm. "Don't worry you'll get there", he assures. Theodore definitely looks better on him than me, and I let out another steady breath.

_He's so young_ … I turn to the direction of the fountain and the half-naked kids. I don't trust myself to speak, and my legs wobble slightly as I move. My very own Athena with L'Efant. I let out a content sigh, and proudly smirk down every stink eye pass.

I however, turn my head back, when I approach nearer to the fountain. Dr Mulder is laid out on the grass – I forgot to pack a blanket too. Theodore's resting against one of his knees, his little frog legs splayed across Dr Mulder - whom is glistening in the sunlight, hair stuck up on end; baby bottle in hand, his son eating greedily from him. _Yep, my very own Greek God, to the picture_. Apart from he's not mine!

"Hey Dana", he shouts, turning on me suddenly, and catchching me staring. I jump slightly, and take comfort in the fact that he can't see me go red from our distance. "Looks like I got those crop circles off Xoë after all", he smiles in boyish triumph. And I have to hand it to him.

~xXx~

Back at the house; the kids running irate around the front garden; Theodore quietly content in his car seat; Dr Mulder still topless - I spent the whole journey staring out the wound-down window. He grabs my arm lightly, as I go to unbuckle the baby.  
Still with a gentle grip on my arm, he leads me silently up towards the garage. He lets go of his hold to open it, and the kids immediately rush to my side.

"You can borrow this", he states when we are inside, indicating to the very large car in the garage. The kids chase each other around it.

"It's a tank", I comment, and it's not an understatement, How the fuck am I going to drive this?! "I don't know if I can manoeuvre such a thing".

He chuckles. "It's my wife's, it's for her work, but she's not using it at the moment". He brings out the keys; which he seems to pull out from nowhere and places them in my hand.

_Oh_. Why? Would be the simple question to ask. "Wh-", I start to ask but it gets overpowered by Xoë's scream.

"Why are you giving her Mommy's car keys?!" she shrieks, and my eyes widen over the screech, even Yvo halts his movements.

"Xoë", Dr Mulder soothes. "Dana needs a car, and Mommy isn't using it at the moment, it's only temporary".

But she is hyperventilating, big time, her whole body heaving. I would go over to sooth her but I am nervous at what she might do. I mean, if her own father isn't moving to comfort her, that's enough of a sign that I shouldn't.

"You're all shitting shit heads!" she screams, running off down the garden path, in the direction of the road. Dr Mulder runs after her.

I move my gaze to Yvo who just shrugs. "Come on Dana, let's go inside", he chirps, taking my hand; his mother's keys in my other.

I guess I'm staying.

**_Long chapter, I hope to make up for the month delay in upload dates. Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews, and all who favourited and added it to their follows! I really appreciate it. I don't know why I am so worried about this fic, as opposed to my others but I am. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and it was worth the wait, better yet, let me know via a review. _**


	5. Wednesday's Child in the Basement Office

_**My laptop died on me, which is why it took so long to get this chapter up. Anyway, let me know your thoughts on this chapter because it will depend on how I write the next one... :)**_

_Wednesday's Child in the Basement Office_

It's two o'clock in the afternoon when, 'Angry Frog', alerts me that it is time to wake up, and I don't even feel guilty for it.

On Monday, after waving the Mulder family good-bye at 5:45am – Dr Mulder forgot to tell me that they leave an hour earlier on a Monday, as he likes to be in his office before 7:00am; thank-God, I am one for prepping the night before. That day, I slept until five in the afternoon, and then proceeded to rush to get dinner ready for six; while giving the house the impression that I had spent the whole day cleaning. Only, for them not to arrive until seven; and Dr Mulder to not even care that I had attempted to clean, let alone had dinner ready. Anyway, the twins' seem to be ready to sleep by eight; Dr Mulder disappears to his study as soon as dinner is over; leaving me the entire evening to clean up, and get everything ready to do it all over again the next day. I really couldn't ask for an easier job... But, then there is Theodore's every two hour feed, which is why I sometimes need to sleep until five, because even though I now learnt not talk to night during his evening feeds, or turn on any lights, sometimes he just does not want to sleep. Although, when he does sleep, I worry that he is not breathing properly, rush to turn the light on, and nudge him to make sure - which, more often than not, wakes him up. Swings and roundabouts. At least I have the day to sleep I guess; and I am only with the twins three hours a day, tops.

Tuesday was more productive; I woke up about 11:30 and did actually tidy and clean the twins' and Theodore's bedrooms a bit. Although, the twins are pretty tidy themselves, but that could be because the lack of time they spend in it. I cleaned the main upstairs and downstairs bathrooms, the kitchen, laundered the baby's and kids' clothes; all of which went unnoticed by Dr Mulder. He did however ask if it was OK if he popped out for the evening, to carry on working on a case. I was initially nervous about being left alone with the children for the first time - I mean what if Xoë woke up!? But he said that he would be back in time to take the kids to nursery, although from the looks of him this morning, only just.

That evening, the twins were dead to the world by eight, meaning I could potter around their bedroom with the light on while I picked their clothes ready for the next day. By nine o'clock; the kitchen was clean, the kids' and baby's clothes and bags set for the next day; and Theodore, propped in his car seat, had been content just watching me, his bear's ear safely chewing in his mouth, as I moved him with me from room to room.

At 21:10, when I was certain there was nothing else to do; I turned off all the downstairs lights, and made my way up to the baby's room. Bathed, full, and read to, Theodore had fallen asleep on me by 22:30. Sat together on the pine rocking chair in his room, I watched him sleep peacefully in my arms, chest rising and falling, not really wanting to lay him to bed and be alone in the oversized, alien house.

~xXx~

_Wednesday 3rd October_

Wide awake, I jump out of bed and half-hazardly make it. I unpacked as well yesterday, and with everything in its place, and my own floral bed set on, it feels more homey, and like my bedroom.

Towled up after my shower, I fully open my wardrobe, and chest of drawers.

What to wear, what to wear? I wonder. My finger nails clicking annoyingly against each other. I frown down at them, maybe I should paint them?

Dressed in my dark wash jean shorts, and a navy blue T, I plod down the stairs. The kitchen is still clean from last night - seeing as they arrive so early, the children eat breakfast at nursery, and Dr Mulder insists that he will just get something at work.

What to do? What to do? My newly polished, teal fingernails click irritatedly against each other. I halt my movements, splaying out my hands. _Don't want them to chip_.

Like Theodore's room, there is nothing to tidy or clean in the twins' bedroom. They make their own beds, and fold their pyjamas underneath their pillows themselves in the morning.

What to do? What to do?

In the bathroom, someone has left their pee in their toilet. My hand twitches excitedly to flush it, but then I decide to just let it mellow.

Putting the toilet lid down, I sit on it, and release my hair from its hair tie. Bowing my head, the ends of my hair tickle my thighs. I massage my scalp with my pads and fingernails, and stay like this for about ten minutes.

Lifting my head up, nothing has changed and decide I will flush the toilet anyway.

Slumping towards the bathroom mirror, I wash my hands and inspect my appearance. I still look gaunt and my eyes are still hollow.

I pull a face... I think maybe I look worse.

I dry my hands and pull my hair up and across my face, to see what I would look like with shoulder length hair and a fringe.

I pull another face, _no_ _to a fringe_.

Maybe a side parting?

I move my hair tips to one side…_maybe_, before releasing my hair. I liked the short length.

I move my face closer to the mirror… maybe I'll pluck my eyebrows.

~xXx~

In my own en-suite, mid-pluck, I realise excitedly what I can do. I plop my tweezers back into my make up bag, they didn't really need plucking, and walk quickly to the twins' bedroom.

Pulling open Xoë's chest of drawers, I search for hair accessories.

There are not any in there, but I refuse to believe she doesn't have any.

And she does!

My eyes light up, my fingertips skimming the rough wooden edges of the old jewellery box, sat inconspicuously atop her chest of drawers; a soft twanging melody echoing from it'.

_Moon River_, I smile, and perch myself against her bed, close my eyes and enjoy the melodic memories.

It was Grandma Isabelle's favourite song, and I think it might be mine too.

"_Two drifters, off to see the world…";_ I hum along.

"…_were after that same, rainbows end. Waiting round the bend…_".

This song is one of the reasons I decided to study medicine, a profession I can travel with while I see the world. Now all I have to do is find my other drifter.

Ethan…?

_Dr Mulder_? No, not Dr Mulder, I frown, he can't be a drifter, not with his children.

The song finishes, and I close and open the box, tuck my knees under my chin, to listen to the bitter sweet melody once more.

~xXx~

It's still only 3:30 when I close the twins' bedroom door. It's a sunny day outside, so I plop on my flip flops, grab my iTouch and sunnies, and head out in the garden. The grass looks like it has not long been mowed, and I wonder idly whether that is something I have to keep an eye on…? I'll ask Dr Mulder and dinner.

There isn't much in the way of outdoor toys for the children, just a very old tree house. I test a wooden step nailed into the tree, its still sturdy, and climb up.

Peering into the house, the first thing I see is a pair of old fashioned binoculars, perched atop a large old wooden, 'Palmolive' box, next to one of the windows. There are also two wooden chairs, and a wooden toy wagon full of books, and other bric-a-brac; I guess it still does get used by Xoë and Yvo. There is also a floor board missing, taking another step up, I see an old wooden box in there. Then spot said missing floorboard perched against the wall in the opposite corner.

I smile; someone forgot to re-bury their treasure. I entertain rifling through the box, but instead decide to let them keep their secret box, and whatever treasures it has hidden.

Apart from trees, plants and the patio, the only other things in the back garden is the glass summer house, of which I have already explored – and cleaned, and a basket ball court. From the height I guess that is Dr Mulder's, although web he finds time to use it escapes me.

I did half expect/ hope to find a swimming pool, taking in the size of the actual house and grounds, but alas, you can't have everything. So, I decide to ditch sunbathing, its too hot anyway, and instead explore the rest of the cul-de-sac.

Seven houses down, I conclude that the cul-de-sac is dead and boring, with no sign of life.

Arriving at the eighth and last house, I slouch, end of the road. I pull out a headphone and listen for traffic, none, you could hear a pin-

"Hello?"

I jump out of my skin. "Holyfuckingchristonastick", I blurt out. That's Missy coming out of me. I turn to the voice to see a guy, I guess around my age, all sweaty, with his top off. _A very attractive topless guy_. I would appreciate it more, if it wasn't for the fact I think I very nearly peed myself. "Hi", I say breathlessly.

He scratches the back of his head smiling. "I'm sorry I scared you there".

"No, its OK", I catch my breath. "It's just…", and again, "I thought I was the only sign of life".

He chuckles, his blue eyes twinkle in the sunshine. "Everyone is at school or work, is all", I hone in on his lips, I have only just realised his accent, Irish maybe?

"Yeah", my voice becoming more coherent. I frown, as his eyes trail down my body, they stop momentarily on my exposed legs, and then back up again, they stop on my chest, and I deepen my frown, and worse, smile.

"Wouldn't t'ink you were religious, with'd the language the just came out of you", definitely Irish.

I realise he must be looking at my gold cross, and I touch it lightly, "it's more a keepsake", I explain.

He nods. "So, what's your name? Definitely would have remembered your face if I had seen it before".

"Dana", I offer my hand.

"Eddie, or Ed is fine", he introduces, _nice hands_.

I become conscious of the music blaring through one ear, and pop out the other earphone, winding the wires round my iTouch. I can see him trail my body _again_ through my peripheral.

"So do you live around here? Parents?" he questions.

"Oh no, I just started nannying for a family that lives down this cul-de-sac".

"Oh, the Langwellan's?"

"No"

"The Mulder's?"

"Yep, I didn't realise there were any other children down here".

His thumb indicates to the house behind him. "Little Evie and Kevin, are near enough the same age as Xoë and Yvo", and I am shocked that they would know them by name.

"Oh, so, you live here?" I ask hopeful; maybe my days won't be so boring.

"No, no", he laughs, shaking his head, "I'm just the gardener. Couldn't imagine living in a house the fooking sizes of these ones here. I take care of most of the gardens though".

Oh, I nod. "Yeah, I was quite shocked too, when I first saw them …Umm I'm sorry, I have to go", I say indicating to the direction behind us with my thumb.

"-Ed", he reminds me but I haven't forgotten his name.

"Ed", I smile, turning.

"Dana", he says, and does a sort of bow, takes my hand and gives it a small peck, then produces me with a small flower out of nowhere. I flush betroot - well it had to happen sooner of later. I turn quickly on my heels and speed walk back in the direction of the Mulder house.  
"Dana!" he calls and I whip around, the kiss still lingering on my hand, "see you next Thursday". I'm confused, and I think he can tell that by my hesitancy. "I do the Mulder house every other Thursday".

"Oh, OK", I say, and speed off again.

~xXx~

It's not untill I am laid out in a star on my bed, do I realise that that would have been the perfect opportunity to ask about Mrs Fox Mulder. I even contemplate running back down to House Eight and asking him. I look at the small red flower still in my hand, and roll my eyes. My phone buzzes, and it drops somewhere on the carpet. It's a text. From Ethan. Asking how nannying is going and whether I want to meet up soon. I sigh, Ethan, Ed, Dr Mulder, _they're all coming out as if on tap_. But only one of them I know is actually available, I remind myself. Picking up my phone, I type:

Sure, why not? I'm free Friday evening xx

I know it's not the most wooing of texts, but I am not really good at that anyway. He replies almost instantly:

Dinner, movie, and then back to mine? My treat? XO

I reply:

Sure, sounds perfect xxx

And it does, no kids, no hot then cold Dr Mulder, no two hour feeds, civilisation!  
I glance at my wrist watch, 16:00. I still have an hour really before I need to start to make dinner. I turn my face into my pillow and scream.

~xXx~

_One week later ..._

The house is pristine. It's actually quite sickening how clean and tidy it is, but this has become my life. Laid out one of the kitchen sofas; my eyes wander from my book to stare at the faint droplets of rain that have started to fall against the glass sliding doors. I've decided to read through this years course text books, may as well be top of my game for my last year of med school. After over a week of be marooned with this boring, unimaginative and almost robot like routine, I will be going back, that I have definitely decided on. I am just not sure whether I will be going back to Georgetown ... maybe I'll go back to Stanford...?

I flop my text book on my lap, and let out a loud cry as it hits the skin of my thighs, its heavier than I thought, but let's face it, no one will hear me. I have been reading it for over two hours, and I am SO BORED. I'm so bored of this house. I check my wrist watch, "Gah!", its only two. I slap my hands on my forehead, and just keep them there. It's OK, I tell myself, you're seeing Ethan again on Friday evening; just two more days until a whole evening of sex. Even just adult company, or company other than a baby; I only see Dr Mulder and the twins for maybe one hour in the morning and then one hour in the evening. Sundays are nice though, we went to the National Air & Space Museum, and I think Dr Mulder may still be harbouring a childhood dream of becoming an astronought; still I was highly impressed with how much he knew. I smile, and maybe I impressed them also with my knowledge. Actually, let me reiterate, Dr Mulder and Yvo were impressed, Theodore only cared that I fed him in time and Xoë would just shrug at my facts and ask her dad if he also knew that, sometimes he said he did, but more often than not he said he didn't. Although, I think he was lying a lot of the time, trying to make me more appealing to Xoë. She still hates me as much as she did on day one, but the difference is that I have learnt not to care, and now we just waltz arounto each other the few hours a day that we are in each others presence.

I splay my fingers open and look outside, its not raining too hard...Maybe I'll go for another run. That's right a run, I even do half an hour of exercises in the morning.

~xXx~

After my run, I decided to re-arrange my bedroom, and it does look better, and functions better as a room. I made pasta again for dinner; don't know how much longer I can keep putting that on the table. I am just going to have to suck up, grow some steel ovaries, and wrestle that tank. I'll ask Dr Mulder for grocery money WHEN they get in. Its now, 19:17, the weather has gotten a lot worse, the news said that we might even get a bit of a storm this evening, a reminance from a Caribbean tropical storm.

So, with nothing to do but wait, I have spent the last hour, wallowing away on Facebook. I said I wouldn't but I re-activated it, just to see what everyone at uni is doing. And they all seem to be doing great in my absence, probably better by the pictures. There are some newly tagged pictures of Ethan from last night... I'm going to have to ask him who some of the girls are with their arms around his waist. I grimace, I don't do jealous, how have I become this person? Nevertheless, it looks like he had fun, a heck of a lot more fun than I had last night; two hour feeds with the baby all night, woo hoo! I see a few people have dis-added me as their friends, but then I expected that. Something drops onto my Mac keyboard, I look down, a tear drop. I had to expect that. My hand rises to my face and my fingertips pad lightly on my falling tears. But clearly I am still not prepared.

~xXx~

"Dana", I feel someone jostle me. Is this all just a bad dream? "Dana". I sit up with a start, and although blurred, am met by the tired and worn-out face of Dr Mulder. _He still looks beautiful, even when blurred, and sexy as hell, with his loosened tie_. I don't know what possesses me when I make a grab for it, stroking it; my other palm moving to rest on his warm, solid chest.

"Daddy? Why is she crying?" the panicked voice of Yvo, snaps my hands back and self out my bleary state, and I turn my face away from them.

"Yvo…", he sighs in defeat. "Kids…", great, Xoë is there too. "What did I tell you both? Go put your bags away, put any dirty clothes in the laundry bin, get ready into your pyjamas, get your stuff ready for tomorrow. You know the procedure; I shouldn't have to tell you". Still with his palm on my back, the touch burning.

"But we don't do that until after dinner", I hear Xoë's very matter-of-fact voice. "And since Grandma has been here, she has got everything ready for us".

"And Dana", Yvo adds in a timid voice, obviously still worried about me, and I curse myself blindly for letting him see my like this.

"Please, just do as I ask".

I hear Xoë's sigh, then them rustle towards the door. "She's going to be OK, isn't she Daddy? Yvo's little voice ask, and my heart breaks.

"Yes son, she's going to be fine".

It's not until their footsteps are being heard up the stairs, does Dr Mulder remove his now searing palm.

I turn quickly to face him. "Oh God, I'm so sorry", _again_ I have cried in front of this man and his children. "Shizer", I put my head in my hand, "I am really not good at this", I mumble. I steal a look, and he's not even looking at me; hands on his hips, a terse frown on his face. "You should just fire me now", I say, hiding my face into a nearby cushion.

"Why would I do that?" he asks, his voice not sounding amused, worse, bored.

I throw my head up from the plush violet cushion, "because I can't stop crying!" I almost scream. He's looking at me with angered intensity, and why not? He's been up seen 6:30, spent the whole day at work, driven the kids too and back from nursery, to come home, hungry, to his hysterical nanny, who can't stop crying around his children! I bury my face again. "I'm broken, and the kids shouldn't be exposed to that", I muffle, and sit up with a start when he grabs the cushion from underneath my face.

He throws the cushion back on the sofa. "You're not broken. It's just change".

Raw and exposed. I swallow hard, not wanting to even think what kind of state I look like. I peer down to my open palms in my lap. "Why do you keep giving me chances, think that I can do this", I say wobbly.

"Because change takes time to adjust to", he says simply. I still do not look up from my palms and he sighs steadily. "I'm going to take a shower; the kids are hungry, will dinner be ready in ten minutes?" I nod. "Do you need any help?" I shake my head. "OK", he sighs again. "I left Theodore asleep in the car. You need to pack more diapers for him, they complained that there wasn't enough".

I roll my eyes. If its not one thing I have forgotten, it's another. "OK", I mumble. "I'm just going to wash my face". I stand, not making eye contact with him, and use the sink in the utility room instead of the kitchen, so I don't have to walk past him.

~xXx~

Dinner is quiet, but everyone is devouring their food. Except for Theodore, who is on the mat in the play/lounge area, busy being preoccupied by the monkey on his rainforest baby bouncer. Outside is definitely brewing up, the patio plants echo nosely against the glass as their leaves are whacked against it. I turn my attention back to the sombre zombie-like faces around the small dining table and feel that I should lighten the mood.  
"So kids, what did I forget to pack this time?"

That brings a spark to their eyes, especially Xoë's, and I smile at them animatedly to encourage them to talk.

"Weelll", Xoë starts, "you didn't pack enough diapers for Theo-"

"Mhhmm, your dad has already told me about that one", I smile in his direction, to find him smiling right back at me. I hold his gaze for a second before returning it back to Xoë.

"And what did your teacher say?" knowing that she likes to go into the full details.

"You forgot to pack my water bottle", Yvo admits shyly after his sister has finished.

"Oh, I'm sorry", I say turning to him, and I truly am, it's only for the car journey, but still. "Did you survive the car journeys with no water, I hope your sister shared hers", I raise an eyebrow at Xoë, who with a mouthful of salad, smugly shakes her head.

"Actually", Yvo says slowly, stopping to loudly crunch on a sweet pepper. "We went on a field trip today, so we needed water for that, our own packed-lunch as well"; my face falls and so does my fork. Yvo goes for another fork of salad, but stops as it reaches his mouth seeing my expression, "but you remembered the snacks and hats and sun cream".

"Yeah", Xoë pouts, "and we were the only ones that had to wear them".

Dr Mulder chuckles, but I am still horrified. "I didn't know you guys had a trip today". I look at Dr Mulder for confirmation, whose face turns very guilty, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Actually", he swallows, "there is a timetable on the side of the fridge; they go on trips quite a lot… you should take, take a look at it...maybe", he mumbles, avoiding my eye contact; which is good because he would freeze from the look I am giving him.

"So what did you guys eat for lunch?" I ask; fork still suspended in air.

"Deniz, shared his lunch with me", Yvo chirps, spearing a tomato.

"No one shared their lunch with me, I starved", Xoë inputs; dramatically fainting against her chair - just in case I wasn't feeling awful enough.

"Her boyfriend shared his lunch with her", Yvo snickers, and it's a good thing, Dr Mulder and I are on either side of her, because she is going in for the kill.

"Tommy Carmello is not my boyfriend!" she screams.

Dr Mulder chuckles loudly, not helping her irate state. "Calm down Xoë" he teases, resting his hand on her legs, which are furiously kicking the air in front of her.

I smile, turning to check on Theodore. He's still a happy chappy, the weather doesn't seem to be bothering him. I feel Yvo's hand on my wrist, and I turn my attention to him. "Sometimes Deniz's mom forgots to pack him snacks, so I usually share mine with him", he smiles understandingly.

I lean in and whisper, "thanks champ, that makes me feel a lot better". I look up to Dr Mulder, and see him proudly smiling at his son. Wednesday Adam's, still kicking furiously, decides to change her target. "OW!" rubbing my shin, but she doesn't stop.

"Xoë!" Dr Mulder scolds, "stop it or you will have time out".

She stops. "I'm not hungry anymore", she mumbles.

"You will finish the salad on your plate, young lady", he says sternly, and she picks up her fork and spears it into it.

Silence proceeds over the dinner table, and I move to get the broccoli and cheese pasta baking slowly in the oven. Setting it on the oven top to cool, "I think I need to do some food shopping tomorrow", I start.

"Oh? I'll leave some money for you in the morning", he turns around in his seat, smiling, and catches me staring at the back of his head. I move quickly, and grab the spatula to poke into the bake, so it can cool quicker. "You going to test drive the tank?" he jokes.

Smiling, I turn slightly, so my back isn't completely facing him. "Ye-", my eyes and body fly round in bewilderedment, at the sound of Xoë's almighty scream.

"Xoë!" Dr Mulder scolds her again, but her brothers resume like nothing's happened. I guess eventually, I will get used to it too. "Oh", he says, his head following me as a carry over the casserole tray; he brings the mat closer to the edge of the table for me. "I need to leave you some money for the gardener as well tomorrow". Ed, I'd completely forgotten about him, and my cheeks flush over the memory of him, my hands become hot too and the tray drops from my grip but still lands on the mat, the glass lid clatters loudly against the base. Dr Mulder frowns at me.

"Sorry", I whisper. "It still needs to cool a bit, I think", I say, taking my seat back at the table. He is still eyeing me dubiously... "I went for a walk last week, just down the road. I think I met him; he was doing some work at the house at the end. Irish I think, is he-"; Dana, just stop, stop rambling! And I purse my mouth shut and let out a steady breath. "It's my godson's birthday party on Saturday", I change subject, looking anywhere but at Dr Mulder, "and you are all invited". Both Xoë's and Yvo's eyes light up at this, and they smile at each other excitedly.

"That will be nice, wont it kids?", and they both nod animatedly.

"Mmhhmm, there is going to be a bouncy castle-"

"Bouncy castle", Yvo screams, getting out of his chair and starting to bounce around the table. Everyone laughs.

"Sit down, Yvo. You're out the dinner table", Dr Mulder laughs when he reaches him.

Yvo giggles sitting down, "you sound like Grandma again", he teases.

"Don't I know it" Dr Mulder grumbles, but smiles at his son before turning his gaze to me, "Saturday is your day off?"

"That ok, I'm helping out anyway", he nods, smiling. "You and Theodore are invited too", I try to say nonchalantly, but he just smiles and nods, and I fear that my voice has given too much of myself away. "…Xoë, can wear a party dress", I suggest; her face falls at that and she glowers at me.

"If we're invited, where are our invitations?" she asks smartly.

"Uh, you don't need an invitation, because I'm inviting you in person".

"Will there be birthday cake?" Yvo asks.

"Yes, of course they'll be cake", I enthuse. My mother usually makes Trent's birthday cakes, and I wonder idly if she will still do it this year, will she be there…?

"Yes!" he clasps his hands in his glee. "Chocolate?"

I laugh, "I don't know, maybe", and he nods, content over the possibility that their may be chocolate cake. Everyone has finished their salad so I get up and start to serve, "is chocolate cake your-".

"Oh no, not for me", Dr Mulder stops me in my tracks. "I have to head out back to work", he says standing and making his way to the sink to wash his plate.  
"This case", he lets out a deep sigh. Placing the plate on the rack, and flicking the suds off his hands, "it's a right…", he regards the two five-year olds at the table, "…bore, that it's all the way in New Jersey".

"New Jersey!" My eyes fly open, and I rest the casserole tray back on the heat mat. I flick my gaze at the kitchen wall clock, "but you won't get there until after eleven". Is that where he was last night?

"I know", he sighs to the floor, looking like he wants to tell me more, but then doesn't.

I look down at the kids, who are looking right back at me, to come up with some kind of intervention. "…But, you haven't finished dinner", I say meekly.

"That's ok, I'll pick something up on the way", he says, heading for the door.

"...the weather", just as meekly, pointing behind me to the noises being echoed from the glass door. He turns smiling, "i'll be OK. Not that dinner doesn't look and smell great", and then exits up the stairs.

I look back at the low hung heads of the kids. Failed.

~xXx~

My food plays around in my mouth, as I think over Dr Mulder's actions. I snap out of it though and regard the other two at the table. Yvo, is shovelling pasta and some broccoli down his throat, and Xoë, twirls the pasta swirls around her plate. I struggle to think of a topic to start conversation.

"Come on Xoë, eat up; then I'll read you both more of Yvo's book". She shrugs in response, and instead twirls the fork around her plate louder, so it is scraping the bottom of the ceramic. I wince at the noise.

"Xoë, will you please stop making that noise", but she only makes it louder. "Xoë…"

"No!" she screams back, screams again, and starts kicking her legs again in my direction again.

"Xoë", I warn, moving my chair and grabbing her ankles, "stop kicking or you will earn time out in the study". She tries to move her feet against my grip, but can't, so instead opens her mouth and screams.

"Xoë!" Yvo scolds, and both mine and Xoë's eyebrows raise, before hers goes very stern. "Stop being dif-cult".

She screams at him, and leans to grab the spatula out of the casserole tray and throws it the short distance in his direction. "Stop defending her, you shit head", she screams. I try to intercept the utensil, but the metal part hits him right in the face. I turn and glare at Xoë, who seems to be shocked that it actually hit her intended bull's-eye. Returning my attention back to Yvo, I see there is a cut in the hollow of his eyebrow, and a long red streak down his face. I can tell he is trying not to cry, his left eye already wincing from being hit in the eye, and his right eye starting to water, his bottom lip wobbling.

How dare she throw things at him! And I feel a rage boil up inside me. I whip around and turn on her, "ten minutes in the study, NOW", I order. She screams, I think in her own frustration, but storms out. I wait to hear the study door slam shut.

I glance over at Theodore, who is still enthralled by his baby bouncer, before moving across to Yvo. "Are you OK?" I ask, resting a hand on his shoulder. Staring down into his plate, he nods, but I hear his sniffles. I crouch down to his eye level, and see tears streaming down his face, his left eye, which is already starting to go purple, wincing in pain.

"Oh Yvo", I rest a hand on his lap, guilt and pain over wanting to take his own away builds through me. I know he is probably too old to be comforted like this, but nevertheless, I pick him up into my arms, and hold him close to me. My palm rubs his back soothingly before manoeuvring us both to the freezer door, where – with difficulty because he is anything but light, I rest his weight onto one half of my body while I fish out some ice from the dispenser. I then quickly grab a hand towel before seating us both on the sofa. I tap my foot lightly on Theodore's bouncer, and he gurgles excitedly, liking the movement.

Yvo sits very upright on my lap, unsure of our new closeness. "Here, hold this", I whisper to Yvo, holding open the tea towel after I have it used to wipe his face. He does; his red, squishy, tear-swollen face watches as I put the ice in the middle of the cloth, tear droplets still stuck in his long dark brown eyelashes, his left eye starting to droop. I take it from his hand, and rest it on his left eye.

"It's cold", he complains, moving his head.

"I know, but it will stop your eye from swelling", I whisper, whipping some more of the tear streaks from his face with my hand, and he allows it. We sit in silence, with just the loud yet quiet excited gasps and groans from Theodore, and the whirling of the stuffed objects on his bouncer as sound. I contemplate turning on the TV, but the remote is by the set, and I don't think I could stand up with Yvo's weight on me. I look around the sofa desperately, but to no avail.  
"Hey, do you know this one?" He shrugs non-committedly, distressed over his eye, and attempts again to take off the iced tea towel. "No you have to keep on a little longer", I soothe, and he sighs.  
We sit a while longer with just Theodore's sounds. I can't even reach for a book. I don't know how to talk to a child, let alone soothe one when his sister throws a spatula in his face; when I am with Trent, it is him that does all the talking. Yvo sighs again loudly, and the pressure builds in me to do something…"Jeremiah was a bull frog", I sing, actually it's more like word-singing; but he turns his head to face me, my hand and the home-made icepack with it. His blue eye looking expectantly at me, for more…? It studies my face, and then rests on my mouth. "…He was a good friend of mine", I continue, "never understood a single word he said-".

"-but I helped him drink his wine", Yvo croaks, and then smiles at me, before looking back to my lips.

"-and he always had some mighty fine wine", I smile; he shifts closer to me and rests his warm and heavy head in the crook of my shoulder, before we proceed to sing the chorus together.

~xXx~

We both turn our heads at Dr Mulder's knock on the kitchen door, an absent smile on his face. "What's going on? Where's Xoë?"

"She's having time out in your study for throwing a spatula at Yvo", I explain.

"_What?"_ he asks in disbelief, and makes his way over to my, well Yvo's side. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Theodore grab for him, and I lightly tap my foot on his bouncer. It stops however momentarily, as does everything in my body, as Dr Mulder gently encloses my hand, lifting it with the tea towel off Yvo's eye. I watch his eyebrows furrow, making his eyes squint slightly; his nostrils flare and his mouth thins... I raise my concentration back to his eyes, when I feel him place my hand back over Yvo's eye. He gently kisses his son on the cheek and then turns his eyes on mine, which widen slightly over being caught staring so intensely at him, _again_. "I'll go talk to her", he says, and I nod, glad that it doesn't have to be my burden.

…

"FOR F-… SAKE. XOE!" I hear Dr Mulder's booming voice, and quickly slip from under Yvo. Definite overreaction! I panic, as I run in the direction of the study. I can hear Yvo's light plods behind me.

The study door is open, but there is no one in there. It's eerily silent, papers strewn across the wooden floor, a large mahogany desk in the middle of the room, bare.  
"I just can't TAKE you anymore!" I hear him shout, but more in defeat. It's definitely coming in from here, and I edge further into the study, around a walled-type pillar, to find steps going down into the basement. I peer down the steps, a basement office. Xoë, stands frozen in time, an empty old fashioned case file in her hands. Dr Mulder's hands wide and expressive, is standing over her. I can see the poor girl's heart beating out of her chest.

Yvo makes a noise, and Dr Mulder looks up in my direction. His hands twitch and he sighs loudly before storming up the stairs. I move out of his way, backing into the desk; but little Yvo stands his ground at the study door. Dr Mulder picks him up and plonks him down out of his way. The ice cubes fall from the tea towel, and they make a loud noise on the silent wooden floorboards.

Next, the front door is flung open and then slammed shut, leaving the three of us frozen in time.

A little while later, tyre screeches can be heard, and Yvo, who has already been through so much this evening, looking so un-kept dressed in his dishevelled oversized pin-stripped pyjamas that had obviously been put on in haste, whips his dark, curly, lions-mane head from the door to me. My eyebrows, the only thing I think at this time able to move, rise. Everything seems to be suspended in time, as my brain plays catch up.  
Next thing I hear is Xoë's scream, as she races up the steps past me; Yvo's head follows her. I hear the front door try to turn,_ now would be a good time to move, Dana_! But I can't, and neither can she by the sounds of it, thank God for self locking doors; my eyebrows rise even higher. I hear Xoë scream again, and she races up the stairs to wherever.

"Is Daddy going to come back?" Yvo asks worriedly; his left eye drooping even more now, so it's almost a slither of sight. The baby starts screaming.

~xXx~

I do eventually snap out of it, and with screaming three month year old in one hand, half-blind exhausted four year-old holding the other hand, we make our way up the stairs. I raise my head in the direction of mine and the twins' side of the house; I can hear things being thrown about. Closing the twins' bedroom door, I decide to put Yvo in my bed, and deal with Xoë later.

Guiding him into my bed, I'm glad I re-arranged it so it wasn't against the twins' room wall but so it faced out the window. I wonder if I should put some piano music on my iTouch to help him sleep, but when I look down, he is already fast asleep on the pillow. I pull the cover up to his chin and ruffle his unruly locks.

Walking towards the baby room, I see that Xoë has opened her bedroom door again. The baby is still screaming, so, I just let her have her way.

When we finally nestle into the rocking chair, Theodore sucks hungrily on his bottle. I glance at the clock, 20:45, his feed is forty-five minutes late. "I'm sorry little man", I whisper close to him, my lips vibrating against his forehead, and he frowns at me, but I blow the creases away.

After Theodore's been fed and change, I knock on the twins' bedroom door. Xoë is face down on the floor, crying; both hers and Yvo's clothes, and various other bric-a-brac, lay out with her. She makes an annoyed noise, too tired and hungry I guess to attempt a scream.

"Do you want to show me how to bathe the baby?" I ask.

She turns her head to the side in contemplation, but then nods.

~xXx~

"Pick out a sleep suit for the baby", I instruct, back in Theodore's bedroom, the baby clean and pristine. She wrinkles her nose at the white towelling Theodore is bundled in, but doesn't say anything.

Like Yvo, she moves the chair to the cot, and watches over me as I dress the baby. I catch glimpses of her when she is not looking. Her body looks fragile and small in her oversized blue nightdress; her heavy brown eyes, wide, and at the same time tired, a few stray tears still trapped in her long eyelashes. Her whole body shivers, making mine too.

"Wait…", she stops me before I put the sleeping Theodore in his cot. "I have to kiss him good night", she says, and gently kisses the top of his head. He lets out a wistful sound, and a small smile plays on her lips. She then looks at me to do the same; I do, and he lets out another wistful sound, a small smile plays on my lips.

"I guess I should tidy up Daddy's study", she mumbles.

I glance at Theodore's wall clock, 21:25. "I think we should have something to eat, and then bed".

…

"Grandma puts towels and everything she washes in the cupboard next to the bathroom because it's hot", I hear Xoë whisper, as I go to turn out the light in her room.

I nod at the peace offering. "Good night", I whisper, but she turns her head on the pillow and closes her eyes, so, I just turn off the light. Opening the cupboard next to the bathroom, which I find is actually an airing cupboard; I see brightly coloured and assorted shaped clothes and towels. I smile; I knew those white towels wouldn't be for them. I pick up the Tigger styled dressing gown, which I guess is Yvo's. Smiling, I proceed to empty and put away.

In the bathroom my hand rests on the baby bear toweling, before hanging it up next to Yvo's and Xoë's. My hand lingers on it; happy that whoever picked them out must have loved these kids, she wouldn't just walk out.

~xXx~

Back downstairs, the kitchen cleaned from dinner, I make my way up the stairs, but something stops me and I plod back down the steps into Dr Mulder's study.

Marked senior thesis proposals, that is what Xoë had strewn across Dr Mulder's study. I start to collect a few together when my eyes get distracted by a pile of down-turned photo frames; I crawl over to them. I pick one up, the glass broken; but I see two children stand in the picture, maybe a teenager and a child. The teenager is Dr Mulder; he is wearing the same arrogant smile that he can sometimes wear, so the child must be his sister…? Or a cousin maybe?

I pick up the next one, and smile at Theodore's, Yvo's and Xoë's faces looking back at me. I then frown, when I notice her long hair. The glass is broken in this one too.

I turn over the last one, it's a much larger frame, my eye brows furrow before realisation dawns, I gasp. I have found her, Mrs Mulder…

~xXx~

Xoë's large oval eyes smile up at me, with Yvo's blue hue. Her hair is dark and curly like the twins, with their plump pink lips. Like Dr Mulder, she is very young, younger, younger than me even... The glass is only chipped in the left hand corner of the frame, so she still looks perfect. I settle the photographs down on the desk and venture down the steps to the basement office.

Xoë has definitely done a much worse job down here. That empty case file I saw in her hand earlier, was only the tip of the iceberg. Surely it would be easier to just have this all computerised, I pick one up, 'X Files #39', is typed in old-style type writer print, an FBI logo in the corner. I frown putting it down. I glance around the room and spot a file still intact on the tall file drawer; obviously it was too high for Xoë to see. 'X-Files #158', is computer typed but with the same FBI seal in the corner. I open it, 'The Jersey Devil'… New Jersey, isn't that where Dr Mulder had to go? Is that the case he is working on, this folk tale?

I frown, putting the file down and spy another photo frame. Hidden in the piles of paper and files, turning it over, I find that the glass is also cracked. But I recognise this picture; it is the one that Dr Mulder sent me in his email with the list of duties, except he is too in this one. My lips pout; he must have cut him out of mine. I can see Xoë's long plat in this one too; I focus on the image of Dr Mulder, his arms hugging his family together protectively, looking proudly down on them. I smile at Xoë's and Yvo's overexcited smiles looking at me, or rather the photographer, and it is then I realise that She must have taken the photo, and that… "Oh God", I look around the room, I'm in her office.

**_Hope you guys enjoyed the read, like I said let me know your thoughts via a review, until next update :)_**


	6. In Someone Else's Shoes

_Wednesday's Child in Someone Else's Shoes_

_…"Oh God", I look around the room, I'm in her office…_

I realise in horror, and quickly run up the stairs only to suddenly brake, when I meet the seated stature of Dr Mulder. How did I not hear him? There is something quite eerie about his silent solitariness, which makes me uncomfortable; he has noticed me though, so, I tread the remaining steps carefully.

Outside is now pitch-black; the stormy weathers passed, and there is a soft rustling of the patio plants beating their leaves against the glass sliding-door in the wind. The salvaged black desk lamp's brilliant light illuminates Dr Mulder's figure and the radius around him; his chin rests distortedly on the desk. There is only one other item on the desk, the framed photograph of his wife; he watches it with an un-denying concentration.

I wince as the top step creaks.

He turns, a mixture of sorrow, alarm, confusion and most of all, hope etched on his face; only for it to instantly disappear when he realises, I am not who he wants me to be.

His eyebrows are furrowed; his face contorted as if in pain, as he moves to look away from me, but something in my hand distracts him. I follow his gaze to the brown case file; I didn't realise I still had it in my grip. His face hardens and my lips quiver to form an explanation… but then his stare softens completely and slightly, so does my nerves, letting out a steady sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, I went to try-", I begin to explain, but he holds his hand up, and I purse my lips shut, even hold my breath.

He rubs his face in his palms, and then brings them to a steeple underneath his chin. He regards the photograph for a couple of moments, before facing it away from himself, and me. He stands and clears his voice- "-she's very beautiful", I squeak, and he stills.

It seems like eternity until he speaks again, and I curse myself and my bubbling mouth; I meant to stay silent until he addressed me but it just popped out. I watch his hand gently hover over the turned away frame, as if nervous to actually touch it. "Yes, she was", he mumbles.

My eyes widen over his statement, _was_.

Then my heart sinks for those poor children, and Dr Mulder -But, why would he say to Xoë that me having her mother's car is only temporary if she is a was?

_Because you are the one that is only temporary. _

Oh.

I squirm uncomfortably in our silence; my toe nails dig into my opposite bare foot. I realise that his are also bare; did he run out like that? Wasn't he supposed to be going out on a case? My nose wrinkles. He's only wearing a plain grey T and those faded Levi's that I almost melted seeing him wear when I arrived on last Saturday – last Saturday… eleven days ago, it seems so much more.

He staring out in front of him, his hair all dishevelled; I can't quite make out the expression on his face because only his profile is facing me, but I am reminded of his son, and how he looked exactly like that as he watched his father storm off into the night.

"You can see a lot of Xoë in her", I add, more confidently.

"Yes you could", he answers almost robotically.

"And Yv-"

He moves, breaking the stalemate, and rubs his hand across his chin. "If you don't mind, I would rather not talk about it, Dana", his voice verging on a snap.

My heart flutters a little over the crispness of my name escaping his mouth, like a whip, my insides clench deliciously.  
"OK", and silence precedes the room again.

After a few moments, he bends down and picks up the other photograph frames off of the green leather and mahogany office chair; dispersing one on the desk, the other, and the one of his wife randomly on the IKEA-white wall-to-wall shelving unit that surrounds the entire room. The one of his wife, is the furthest away.

"Dana." His steel eyes turn on me, his expression hard and angular; he has been crying, the evidence now not so blatant in his effort to wipe it away, but I can see. My heart tightens. Maybe that was why he ran out the house...

"This isn't working out…", he starts, and my eyes widen, my grip on the case file loosening.

He notices this and frowns, "no, not you being here", walking closer to me, making me more assured and at the same time hesitant with each pace, but stops a respectable distance between us. I can now make out the red rims outlining his eyes; like his children, stray betraying tears remain locked in his long dark brown eyelashes, and momentarily become mesmerised by them.

"Me, being here isn't working out", I frown, refocusing my attention; he rubs his hands together, frowning himself at its movement. "…I have an apartment in the city", he says carefully, "and I am going to have to move back there during the week…"

…Why do I have the feeling he has done this before? The reason why his children reach out to him, grip hard on to him when they can? Yvo asked me whether he was coming back… Is this what he meant?

"-I'll be back Friday evenings to Sunday evening though", he clarifies as if reading my thoughts. "You don't mind do you?" he asks, making full use of his puppy dog eyes, "you'll get more hours off this way too".

"No", I say as truthfully as I can answer to a proposal I have had not even a second to consider, "I don't mind".

He smiles, "great", and he seems to visibly relax, but I tighten as I get the eerie feeling I have slipped into someone else's shoes, my eyes flicker in the direction of the picture of his late wife.

"I got some cash out for you", he says reaching into his back pocket and handing me a wad of money, "it's only 300 dollars, but it should do you until Friday evening".

"Oh, OK", he just hands me over 300 dollars.

"I'll leave you some blank signed cheques too", he looks around the room and then laughs, instantly looking younger, and I can't help the small smile on my lips. Well at least he can see the funny side. "Just as soon as I find my cheque book", he jumps down on his hands and knees like a frog and starts collecting the discarded papers together.

I take a step back, as his distance is no longer respectable.

"Oh, sorry", he says, his warm amber eyes makes eye contact with mine.

Blushing heavily, I turn my head from his gaze. "I'll um…, I'll get receipts", I say finding my voice.

"No it's OK", he says continuing his tidy, and he looks up again and gives me one of his panty dropping smiles, "I trust you. Use it for grocery shopping, a present for your godson…", he turns and moves further away from me, giving me a eyeful of how appetisingly well those jeans hug his bottom. "…Whatever you need".

My eyes continue their hungry watch as he shifts along the floor. "I can help you with that", I offer, resting the file on the desk.

"No it's OK", he says. His eyes flicker to the photograph of his wife and his expression hardens. "I would rather do it myself to be honest".

"OK… Or I can do it tomorrow-"

"No, really it's OK. Besides with taking the kids to nursery, food shopping…you might not have enough time".

My eyebrow raises and my nose flares, how inept does he think I am that I would find a simple domestic chore like that time consuming and difficult?  
"If you insist", and I don't think I hide the snappiness in my voice very well as he stills his movements and looks up at me.

"I do", he smiles …he's fricking laughing at me again!

I raise my eyebrow again but purse my lips before opening them again, "what time does nursery start?"

"It opens 6:30am until 6:30pm", he pauses, widening his smile, "do you need directions?"

"No", I say confidently, I don't know why because I have no idea where it is, but I am certain it's nothing that google maps won't help me to find.

"OK", he teases, "well there is GPS in the car anyway", he goes to pick up another stapled proposal. "You're going to be OK with driving the car? We can swap if you want, or you can always get a ca-"

My nostrils flare. "I'm sure I can manage getting the kids to nursery", I say bluntly, and I think he gets my message - I have spent almost six years training to become a doctor, I can handle the basic domestic duties of lets face it, a house wife. Urgh…, how did I end up here again? Become my mother?

"O-K Scully", he laughs, putting a stack of proposals back on his desk, before starting another pile, and I have to bite my tongue, and remind myself that I did say it was OK for him to call me that.

I go to turn out the room, "I left this case file on your desk".

He follows my point, "great", chuckling, "the whole reason I left that damn door open", he murmurs to himself. I frown confused. "I usually keep it locked", he indicates to the door I had not noticed to the basement stairs, "If I knew Xoë was in here…" he trails off.

Is he trying to blame this on me?!

"No, no, I'm not blaming you", reading my thoughts, "it's just that had I known she was in here…", he voice trails off, smiling to himself, he carries on his collection, and I think it is for the best.

"Doesn't matter like I said, it won't take me long-".

I scan the room, he's right, most of the proposals have been cleared; I guess it's his wife's office that's going to take the longest… "-finish getting together what I need and I should be in New Jersey by 1:30-".

My eyes fly open, "-you're still going to New Jersey?!" interrupting his ramblings.

"Yeah-", he chuckles, returning a snow-globe type paper weight back to his desk. My eyes squint, maybe London? "-night is when she comes alive, so to speak", he continues a big smile forming on his face, as he props back a black old fashioned London style telephone.

"_She_?" I ask, it's out before I know it.

"Yeah…", he stops his movements and looks up at me with a coy smile on his face. "Didn't you read the case file?"

Now he is really insulting me, I flare my nostrils at his assumed superiorness over my intelligence. Just because he has a PhD and is maybe a couple of years older than me, does not give him credence! Jersey Devil indeed! He's not going to New Jersey for work, but for a booty call. "Good night", I mumble before storming up the stairs.

~xXx~

The rain pats lightly against my window, when 'Angry Frog' goes off at 6:00 am, an hour after I last dropped asleep. After being up basically half the night with Theodore; I have decided that Dr Mulder is, as Xoë would put it, 'a shit-head'. Furthermore, that I am an even bigger shit-head for letting him get away with it. 'Yeah sure, I can stay home alone with the kids all week, anything you say, Dr Mulder', I chide my hormones' whimsicalness, pathetic adoration and slavery for his charm. WHAT DO I KNOW ABOUT SPENDING A WHOLE WEEK ALONE WITH THREE CHILDREN!? I mean, Hello!? Calling Dana's brain, have you gone on holiday!? Urgh, only a month out of med school and its already has gone to mush – five weeks, now, I correct myself, and slump out of bed to wake up Xoë and Yvo.

I put Yvo back in his bed because I thought it would be awkward when Dr Mulder went looking to kiss him good-night, and finding that he may as well just kiss me good-night too. _That wouldn't be so bad_. Yes it would, I tell off crossly.

I stop my inward ranting at myself and Dr Mulder however when I enter the twins' bedroom. My hand reaches for my heart, my lips part, and my anger diminishes at the sight in front of me. Within the mass of dark-brown curls, I can see, Xoë snuggled up close to her brother's back, with a protective arm wrapped around him. They look so peaceful, that I don't dare disturb them.

~xXx~

"Did Daddy not come back last night?" Yvo asks me when Theodore and I step into the twins' bedroom, a little after 7:00am. His left eye is still drooping slightly and there is still a red mark in the hollow of his eye; but sleep has healed it well. They're both tidying up after Xoë's destruction; she hangs quietly in the background, silently putting back a few books back on Yvo's bed stand. She turns to look at me though on Yvo's question and waits for my answer. I see that sleep hasn't healed her so well.

"Let me see your eye", I ask Yvo, walking over and kneeling to his height. Theodore's bottle, rolls to the ground from its resting place on my chest; he starts to whimper, but Yvo toddles after it and returns it.  
"Thanks champ", I say resetting it better. "Now, let me see", pulling him closer to me; there is still some light bruising... In my peripheral, my eyes catch Xoë's intent stare. "It looks much better", I say brightly, smiling at her behind Yvo. Her eyes show relief but she doesn't smile, instead swallows deeply and continues her silent movements, putting away the neatly stacked pile of objects in front of her.

"It doesn't hurt", he says cheerfully, "and I can't wait to show Deniz and everyone at nursery! …Is Daddy taking us?" he revisits his earlier question, using his father's puppy-dog eyes. I seek out Xoë again in the corner of my eye. I shake my head, no. Both their faces falls, Yvo's bottom lip pokes out too.

For a while it's just the hungry sucks from Theodore feeding as noise. With Yvo's bottom lip extending even more, my mind races to come up with something.  
"…But you know what?"

"What?" Yvo mumbles, not removing his focus from the floor; I can almost feel his disappointment.

"He'll be back on Friday".

The news doesn't appear to make either of them feel better, and Theodore moves his head against my chest, to let me know that he has had his fill. I frown, there is still a lot of formula left… maybe the news has made him loose his appetite – I roll my eyes at myself; burp him –with the spit rag, already on my shoulder, before nestling his back up against my chest.

My eyes sorrowfully regard the two sombre faces again. I pout in thought, "and…" I add, thinking on the spot, "we-are-not-going-to-go-to-nursery-today".

"We're not?" Yvo's head raises, confused.

"Nooo", I say more to myself than him, "we are going to have pyjama day", I declare.

He doesn't look too convinced… or enthusiastic, "what's a pyjama day?" he asks.

"It's a day where you don't get out of your pyjamas or do anything apart from read, eat and watch TV".

"I don't think daddy would like that?"

"Well he's not here is he?" I smile.

Yvo's smiles in agreement, "that sounds fun!" only to instantly fall, "but what if my bruise dis'pears by tomorrow".

"Di-sap-pears", I correct, and smile because there is not really much of a bruise now. "Then how about we have half a pyjama day and go to nursery for the afternoon?"

He nods in full agreement now, and gives me a toothy smile. I laugh, and my eyes search for Xoë, her head is still bowed.

"Why don't you go pick us a film?" and his eyes, well good eye, lights up again, before scurrying off.

He trips at the door.

"Careful", I warn.

"I am", he says picking himself up again to move again.

"Ah-", I say stopping him. "Come here", I instruct, laying a very unimpressed Theodore down on Yvo's bed, before turning to roll up Yvo's pyjama trousers. I smile at his impatience.  
"Pick a good one", I call when I release him.

"I will", he calls back, already half way down the stairs.

I lovingly rub a few circles into Theodore's stomach – one of my new ways of coaxing him to sleep when it's the early hours of the morning and all he wants to do is play; he smiles and gurgles appreciatively at me. It's not my first smile from him, but it's just as special.

I tear my eyes away from the bundle of joy to seek out Xoë, who has almost gone blue trying not to cry; her chest dry heaving against her tears - one of Theodore's hands locks round my fingers, tight, and I turn to look at him in amazement. His blue eyes look earnestly at me.

I smile.

An imprint.

I blow on the top of his forehead, before placing a few kisses on his neck, "I'll be back", I whisper.

"Xoë", I kneel in front of her, but she doesn't react to my presence. My hand goes to remove some of the ringlets obstructing the vision of her face, but she flinches away from it like a wild animal. I rest it back on my lap and sigh. I am not who she wants, she wants her father, or even better, her mother.

"It's OK to cry, Xoë", I say. I regard my coral painted nails, while I think of something better to say, but I can't, what do you say?

"We'll be down stairs when you're ready".

I give her one last look before I carry Theodore and myself down the stairs.

~xXx~

Xoë joins us downstairs about half an hour later. She goes to sit alone on the far end of the opposite sofa. Her eyes are completely dry, and show no sign of fallen tears.

Yvo watches her earnestly before getting up and plonking himself next to her.

She smiles, very weakly, before turning her attention back to the movie, 'Frankenstein'.

I'm not sure the film is really for four years olds, but Yvo promised me that they watch it all the time, and boasted that his father had seen it hundreds of times.

~xXx~

"OK guys", I ask from the kitchen island after the film has finished. "What do you guys want for breakfast?" I ask, heaving Theodore and the baby bouncer from the island to the mat between the two sofas.

"Porridge!" Yvo say's excitedly.

Xoë smiles a little at her brother's exclamation, but otherwise stays silent.

I make a face, "porridge?" fixing the bouncer handle in Theodore's reach.

Then, smiling up at the twins, "I can make you guys porridge if you want, but on pyjama day, you can eat whatever you want" …As long as we have the ingredients – which we probably don't, although I think I can get away with one more day, as long as Theodore has formula, pasta will do.

"Whatever we want?" Yvo asks mouth open, and looks at his sister for confirmation, whose wearing the same weak smile.

"Y-", I jump like ten feet in the air at the loud rap on the glass patio doors. Mine, Xoë's and Yvo's eyes, all turn towards the noise.

It's Ed, smiling at us; laughing at me.

"It's Eddie", Yvo informs waving at him. "He makes our garden"

… Makes me have a near heart attack is what Ed does, and I'm suddenly conscious of what I am wearing and how little it covers. Dressed in short sleep shorts and a flimsy - probably see through, night camisole. I thought I would only be in the company of two four year olds and a baby… I groan inwardly, I forgot about the gardener.

"Look Xoë, its Eddie".

Xoë offers the gardener the twitch of her lips.

He signals me to come over? But I'm quite happy in this frog like position, protecting my propriety.

He signals again.

Oh, what does he want? Hesitantly, I scoop up Theodore, holding him flat against my chest and go to unlock the glass doors. Yvo is immediately at my feet.

"Good mornin'", Ed greets us, smirking.

"Hi", I mumble.

"Hi!" Yvo says brightly.

~xXx~

There is flour everywhere! Spanning from the cooker to the sofas on the opposite side of the room; the kids look like a couple of flour-monsters, even the baby managed to get some on his forehead and clothing - although, that was probably because of me.

We made pancakes and a spin on cupcakes. The Mulders are not one for baking. A roasting tray was the closest thing I could get to bake the mixture in. There was also no sign of icing sugar so had to use caster sugar instead. And, the recipe usually makes twenty eight cupcakes, but I couldn't stop their little hands from poking their fingers into the mixture and butter icing when my back was turned. I am certain more than half was lost to their stomachs. So, we have ended up with twenty four slices of cupcake-cake, only eighteen of them actually iced; twenty one now. They still tasted really good. It's going to take forever though to clean the kitchen, and I don't know how I am going to get the hard-baked mixture off of that roasting try, but the smile igniting from Xoë's little face, makes it all worth it.

"Cupcake holders", I mumble to myself as I lean against a mahogany and black slate kitchen counter writing it down on my side of shopping list. I won't get Dr Mulder to pay for that, as well as my tampons, I think that would be pushing it.

Theodore grunts in agreement from his bouncer perched beside me, his brown bear's ear stewing in his mouth.

"Ah-", I stop Xoë from opening the kitchen door, "flour stays in this room".

"Oh", she complains, and my eyebrows raise, surprised that she is actually listening to me and it wasn't a scream or a 'no'. "Can we go outside?" her big eyes ask.

I bite my lip, Ed is mowing the garden. "I don't want you to get in Ed's way".

She pouts but then smiles wickedly at her brother, who has stopped to listen to our conversation, scooping a handful of flour from the kitchen island, she throws it at him. "Tag you're it", she catches him off guard and runs away further down the room.

"No fair!" Yvo exclaims and chases after her.

I smile, I just about saved Theodore from the line of fire from the twins' flour fight. I know I should probably stop them, and I will be kicking myself when I am clearing it up later, but I am sucker for their sweet sounds of laughter. Especially after the evening we had last night.

_They're motherless_. My subconscious has been reminding me it seems every fifteen minutes of the day; and every time my movements halt, my heart sinks and I have to blink back tears. Despite how I feel towards my mother now, I can't imagine my childhood without her. Fuck, it would have been shit, with my father always at sea for work. He probably would have had to get a nanny for us all… just like Dr Mulder. I raise my now tear free gaze from my list to the three month year old, who is watching his brother and sister so intently, as if all he wants to do is get up out of his bouncer and join them. I place a kiss on his nose, "soon, little man".

The sound of the telephone stops their fight, and Xoë rushes to jump for the phone near the fridge and hands it out to me. "Dana's home", she decides, clutching around my legs, and my heart melts a bit at the sound of her saying my name, not being referred to as 'her' or 'you'.

Taking advantage of the moment, I gently place my hand on her shoulder while I take the phone from her outstretched hand, she looks up at me oddly - OK maybe were not that close yet.

"Hello?" I put my finger into my opposite ear as the twins have started to use me as a merry go round.

"Dana?" It's Dr Mulder, and I am kind of relieved knowing that he got to wherever he was going last night in one piece. "I called the nursery to check that the kids got there OK, and they said that they weren't there?" panic strains his voice.

"No we're still at home. I'm taking them in later…"

He sighs loudly down the phone, and I can feel his annoyance at me.

The kids stop their movements, and look up at me expectantly.

"I just thought because we all had a rather heavy evening yesterday… that's OK isn't it?"

"Well…not really…"

I hear someone call, 'Agent Mulder', in the background. I didn't realise he was an agent?

"Uhm…it's just, that's their structure, and they start school soon, it's all in preparation for the structure of working life".

I roll my eyes, catching the twins as I do; their four years old and three months for goodness sake.

"Will you please just take them in?" he asks.

"OK" I sigh, giving up.

I feel something tug on my dressing gown, which I rushed upstairs to put on as soon as Ed let me go. I look down, by the direction I think it was Xoë but they are both still looking up at me, bug eyed and expectant, like the cat in Shrek.

"I think the kids would like to speak to you", not breaking his stare, Yvo scratches his eyebrow waiting for his response.

"Ah-", Dr Mulder starts, his name is called again in the background. "I am-".

I don't hear the rest of it because I just pass the phone to his daughter, who looks at me to give it to Yvo.

"Daddy?" he asks, then frowns and stares at it. "He's gone?"

Xoë grabs the phone from him, "Daddy?" Silence, he's put the phone down. Xoë screams throwing the phone on the ground and storms up the stairs.

Bastard. And I was doing so well.

~xXx~

Yvo helps me pick up the pieces from the telephone. I click the batteries in and it makes a sound to say that it is working again.

Yvo's frowning as he hands me the back cover; it's been on his face since his sister stormed up the stairs.

"You OK?" I ask, clearly knowing he isn't, and who wouldn't be? All Dr Mulder had to say was a simple, 'hello'.

His frown intensifies. "Xoë's angry a lot", he declares.

"Well she's upset".

"She misses daddy"

"And your mom"

Yvo frowns even more. "We don't talk about her, Daddy and Xoë get upset", his eyes lost in trance.

"And what about, Yvo?"

He shrugs.

"Well if you ever want someone to talk to about her, you can talk to me".

His frown lessens as he thinks my proposal through. "Maybe".

~xXx~

It's about 11:30, by the time we're all washed and ready to leave. The sun is out full beam, and save from the few knocked over plant pots lining the front garden path, you never would have believed the storm we had last night. I am sure that once Ed has finished out back, they will be no evidence at all. The kitchen is still a mess though.

"Oh, no fair!" Yvo exclaims as he climbs into the tank.

I'm at the passenger door hunched over the baby's car seat trying to decipher it, it's a completely shizing different model and design from the one in Dr Mulder's.

"Theo gets to sit in the front with you. I never get to sit in the front", he grumbles putting his seat belt on.

I laugh, "it's only so I can watch him better. When he's a bit older", … I sigh triumphantly – I think I've wrangled the baby's car seat, "you'll have your turn".

"Yes!" he exclaims, fisting his hand in the air.

The seat belt clicks, I sigh again in achievement, there, that looks right. I shake the baby seat a bit to make sure it's sturdy, and Theodore gurgles at me smiling, so I place several kisses on his cheek.

"Aaa", he sounds, grabbing my cheek, and sucking on it.

"Aaa", I sound back smiling, and he does a little dance.

I watch Xoë disassemble her booster seat and climb into the boot through the rear view mirror. "Xoë?" I ask and she stills her movements. "Would you please sit where I put your booster seat".

She slumps and looks at her twin, who speaks for her.

"Me and Xoë usually sit in the boot", Yvo explains.

"Well I would like you both to sit in the back", I say closing Theodore's door to fix the seat back, which is basically a child version baby seat.

She slumps in the seat, pushes my hand away when I try to fasten her in and stares out the window. She has been giving us all the silent treatment since the phone call, I kind of wish she would just scream and shout. She agreed to have a bath, alone, after the boys had theirs, and then proceeded to put on her brother's play clothes.

The urge to move that stray ringlet falling in front of her face is great, but I know she will only just push my hand away. I sigh and close her door. Locking it. Then go in search of the gardener to give him the cheque Dr Mulder left on the kitchen island.

My eyebrows raise, $1,750. I hope that's a month.

I really didn't want to have my maiden voyage of the tank with the kids in the back. I was nervous enough about driving just myself and some groceries, let alone three other lives. I reach as far as the DC border before I am stopped by a traffic cop.

Shizer, I'm not insured on this car. Do I even have my licence with me!?

~xXx~

As it turns out, by law, babies are not supposed to ride in the passenger side of the car. The kids were right when they said they are allowed to sit in the boot, and I had the pleasure of an audience comprised of the traffic cop as well as road workers on their break, as I manoeuvred Xoë and her car seat into the boot – seats had to be deciphered how to erect; then Theodore and his car seat into the back, all on the lay-by of the highway with traffic whizzing past us.

I can do this.

~xXx~

We finally arrive at the main foyer of the J Edgar Hoover building just after one o'clock; after spending about fifteen minutes trying to park.

I had found the car park easily but after turning in, found that it was, 'employees only', and I needed a swipe card; so, spent an embarrassing five minutes trying to reverse the tank back on to the road.

Then, we spent another ten minutes waiting for a car space large enough to fit the tank.

I _really_ hate this car.

How am I going to do this on a daily basis?

I have also decided I want one of those baby slings, like now, today. While I was trying to manage Theodore in his car seat, the baby bag, the twins' snack bags, convince Xoë to hold my hand while we crossed the very busy road – she didn't give in, but loosely hung her grip on the baby's car seat. As well as, Yvo, who willingly took my spare hand – he was not the one I was worried would run into an oncoming car though, he then proceeded to tell me all that he had knew about his precious daddy's second workplace.

I had to bite my tongue and stop myself from telling him to shut up, instead instructing him to hold his sister's hand, tight, while we crossed the pelican crossing.

While we were putting on this show for the passing public; a lady with same amount of baggage as me, walked gracefully across the road, the baby strapped to her chest, a child in each hand; simple, serene.

She flashed me a sympathetic smile, as Xoë dodged my grip again.

~xXx~

"Come on then", I call to Xoë from the checkout, and the teller gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Someone's not a happy boy" she smiles.

I left the boys at nursery but decided to take Xoë with me. When we arrived at the main entrance, the kids seemed to noone everyone and everyone seemed to know the kids. I over heard them ask one of the security guards if their father was here. He had said, 'no, he hadn't checked in', and she looked like she was going to start crying all over again.

"Actually she's a little girl", I smile.

She's been dawdling behind me around the supermarket like a shadow that doesn't want to be associated with its owner, keeping a respectable distance between the two of us, avoiding association. All my attempts of conversation, shrugged away.

"Oh", she says and watches Xoë slump over from the magazine rack. "Oh yes, I can see, I just couldn't tell from behind".

Yep, my efforts to doll up Xoë's hair were thrown away by her heavy glare; after the third day, I gave up entirely. If that's her style, that's her style, it doesn't bother me.

"What a beautiful little girl", she compliments when Xoë is in earshot, and she offers the lady a small smile in response.

The woman moves her attention back to me, frowning slightly, "she must look like her father because she doesn't look anything lik-"

"Oh no-", I go to cut her off.

But Xoë beats me to it, "she's not my mom".

~xXx~

I glance at my wrist watch, it's verging on 14:00 when the car is loaded and we are belted back in. It's started to rain again. I strum my fingernails against the steering wheel; I don't really want to drive an hour home only to have to drive an hour back.

"Hey Xoë, is there anywhere you want to go?" I ask.

She shrugs.

"We could go back to that science museum".

She shrugs.

"Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head, no.

…

I drive the car around a bit, with just the sound of the windscreen wipers and the pats of rain against the window as noise. I spy a Target, and glance at Xoë in the rear view mirror.

She is staring aimlessly out the window at the falling rain, something catches her attention and she follows it.

I follow her gaze, under a large umbrella, a young couple walking happily with a little girl between both hands.

I sigh, I don't really want to drag her into another shop, but I really would like that baby sling, and Dr Mulder said to use the money on whatever I see fit.

She frowns as I turn into the complex, but my eyes perk when I see there is also a cinema.

"I just want to pop into Target", in inform, "and then how about we go to see a movie?" I ask through the rear view mirror.

Although she doesn't smile, I catch her eyes light up slightly; she looks at me through the mirror and nods.

~xXx~

"Come on then", I call to Xoë. I wait for her by the nursery entrance and shamefully avert the eyes of a couple of business women who are frowning at Xoë obstructing the sidewalk by scuff-running her sandals along the middle of the pavement, their frown then turns to me in disgust. She's not my child!

It's definitely easier with one child, especially now I know where the nursery entrance actually is, about four hundred yards from the building's main entrance. I parked against the sidewalk, no busy road to cross.

Inside, I return the approving smile of the security woman we met earlier.

I never thought I would like to see the day when I saw a security screening in a nursery, just what do they think these children will bring in?

"Hi Linette", Xoë greets again; she is definitely chirpier – still refused to hold my hand though.

"Hello Xoë, did you have a good day?"

Xoë shrugs but I see the smile on her face.

The security guard brings her smile back to me and nods as if impressed. …?

~xXx~

It's only 16:30 when we arrive, and Yvo insists in re-introducing me to his friends and all the nursery workers again; Xoë has disappeared, so I oblige him.

The carers regard me with the same polite smile as they greeted me with this morning, probably listing all the things I have ever forgotten to pack in their heads. I'm still not there yet, but I am getting better. Yvo introduces one of the carers, Amber, and she smiles at me, her eyes saying, 'baby talc sadist'.

"We ate all the cakes!" Yvo later exclaims, and his friends, who have made a semi-circle around me, nod excitedly, smiling widely. The wall is to the back of me and I don't know how I would escape of I wanted to. Its slightly intimidating.

"You did", I fake amazement. "I hope you shared".

I look around the sea of eyes, who for toddlers, are scrutinising me heavily. Inspecting me from head to foot, my messily bunned hair, my make-up free face, my exposed legs and arms … maybe my jean shorts and a t-shirt show too much skin…? They were the first and quickest garments I saw this morning.

I find the eyes I know nodding earnestly at me, instantly making me feel more assured in myself. "I got the teacher to cut the slices in half so everyone could have one".

"Well that was very thoughtful", I say, and he smiles bashfully in his pride.

I feel a pull on my shirt sleeve. "They were really good", a little boy compliments shyly, Deniz, Yvo's best friend, who is just as cute as him.

"I'm glad you liked them. Maybe one weekend you can come to play, and we'll make cupcakes" - not that I work on the weekends now.

I've said it now though; Yvo jumps in the air in his excitement, hi-fiving Deniz.

I feel a pull on my opposite sleeve. "Can I come too?" a little girl with braided back hair asks, and so proceeds the rest of the children.

Uhhmm…

A nursery worker saves me though, bringing a sleeping Theodore over with his baby bag.

Xoë skips behind her with a group of other children.

I stand and flush feeling everyone's – including the nursery worker's, eyes on my bare legs; but smile as the baby is brought closer to me, anxiously in anticipation for his warm body against mine.

I've brought the baby sling with me, and slip it on like the shop assistant showed me, before nestling the baby inside the pouch so that his left side is flush against my chest. The feeling of his body against mine, I can only describe as the warmth from a much needed glove. He lets out a wistful sigh of contentment and I place a secure kiss on his curls.

"He looks so cute and cosy in there", the nursery worker comments, and I smile in agreement.

"That's my brother", Yvo proudly points out and I smile.

Xoë rolls her eyes, "everyone knows that Yvo".

Good to see she is getting back to her old self.

~xXx~

The kids went back to nursery as usual on Friday, but not until ten. I also gave in and made them pancakes again for breakfast… But everything will go back to normal next week - next week Tuesday, it's a holiday on Monday.

Yvo asked me if Deniz could come over this weekend… I guess it was too much to have him just forget what I had said. Much more appropriately dressed, I think, in my smart Levi jeans and flowy white blouse; both boys asked me when I dropped off the kids, and again when I picked them up at four. _Dana, what have you done_? Being away from them all week, Dr Mulder probably doesn't want to share his time, equally, have to look after another four year old.

We stopped off at a nearby park on the way back. Now, with Theodore nestled asleep in his sling, or as Yvo calls it, 'kangaroo pouch'. I happily watch the twins chase each other, their smiles making me smile, their laughs making me laugh. My mind muses however, wondering whether Mrs Mulder did the same… maybe sat here at this very same bench watching her kids play.

How did she have time though? She must have been like superwoman, balancing a job, mansion, three kids, and a husband!

It just makes Dr Mulder's comment worse, about me being able to manage taking the kids to school and doing the grocery shopping….

_Maybe it wasn't her office? _

She's so young in that photograph, and from her hair style and what she was wearing, it looked quite recent, in fact, I think I own the top she was wearing in it. Maybe the basement office is just an extension of Dr Mulder's study…?

_Or maybe she is a much more accomplished woman then you are?_

Yvo said that they had never been to this park before; they had never baked either before yesterday; only ate porridge for breakfast; Yvo sulked after he heard I took Xoë to the cinema; his eagerness to have his little friend over; their excitement over Trent's party – but then even I would still get excited over a birthday cake and a bouncy castle … Their strict schedules, their un-childlike neatness and routine…

I think back to the basement office again, are Mrs Mulder's shoes too big for me to fill?

But I am not trying to fill her shoes. I am only temporary, trying to save for my last year of med school.

I reach for my handbag, remembering the brown envelope I was given just as exited the nursery building doors on behalf of Dr Mulder. The man who had given it to me, carried a foul smelling aroma of cigarette smoke, and I instantly was reminded of the form I bumped into two weeks ago outside Dr Mulder's office at SOM. But by the way his cold emotionless steel eyes regarded me; I don't think he did of me.

Releasing the envelope from my bag, my eyebrows furrow, as I remember how he smoked freely around the children. The twins appeared not to know him and regarded him with my same quizzical stare; I didn't like the way he looked over them either, before he extinguished the cigarette at my feet. The packet read, Morley, and then went to light another one and then walked in the opposite direction to us. Had he been waiting for us to exit, how did he know we would be there? When I asked, the twins said that they had never seen them before. He didn't even speak; I only assume it was from Dr Mulder.

Opening the envelope, I peer in to see two card-like objects; turning it upside down, they fall on to my lap. My lip turns wondering what it could be he left for me. Picking one up, and bringing it closer to my eyes, I see the very faded bold capital words, 'FEI' '…AN… …l…E…', and a very faded image.

I frown, and flick my gaze to the other object, a HSBC credit card, 'M..l..er'.

I flick back to the one in front of my eyes and squint at the pixels.

I make out Yvo's bluest of blue eyes, and blink, dropping the card down the sling.

Hand shaking, I fish it out and stuff it and the credit card back in the envelope and then the confines of a pocket in my bag I never use.

I gaff getting over my initial shock. I can't believe he would give me his dead wife's credit card… I'm so angry! I feel like getting up and just leaving his children in this park!

~xXx~

I attempt a weak smile through my ongoing disgust when a lady pushes her buggy over to me; she makes a ridiculous cooing sound at Theodore snuggled against my chest in the kangaroo-pouch. The sun is out full beam today and she uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she turns her head to Xoë and Yvo, but before she can even open her mouth, I beat her to it.

"I'm not their mother".

~xXx~

Back at the Mulder mansion, I left Dr Mulder's envelope next to the picture of his wife in his study, the basement office was locked and it seemed fitting.

I write:

_'I am not comfortable accepting this'._

When really I wanted to write:

_'What the fuck, who gives their newly hired nanny their dead wife's credit card'._

I regard the photograph again, she really does look like the twins; so young, so accomplished, so unlike me.

I fed his fish in the large aquarium too; there is no need to take my anger out on them either.

Dr Mulder's mother arrives at the house around 19:00, I vaguely wonder where Dr Mulder is but then Ethan's car pulls up straight after, and I run out in the night, wanting nothing more than to escape that house and into…fresh air and freedom. I take an apt lungful of it, before kissing Ethan hard on the lips.

~xXx~

Ethan has his own two bedroom apartment in Georgetown. It amazed me at first that he was living here by himself. I asked him why he didn't get a flatmate, he simply shrugged saying he didn't need one. Rich toff alert, but I had already kind of guessed by his posh New England accent, his Rolex, the upscale restaurant he took me to before the movie last weekend, and other little mannerisms.

Our activities remained in the walls of his apartment this evening, an odd side effect to working at the Mulder house all week is my over pent up labedo; I smile, although Ethan doesn't seem to mind.

Lying awake in his bed, he's softly snoring against my chest, his dribble collecting in my clavicle; I feel a stab of guilt over how I left without saying good-bye to kids… I look at the illuminated bed side clock in Ethan's room, 23:20; it's too late to talk to the kids but Dr Mulder may still be awake.

I try to move in vain against Ethan's weight. I'll see them all tomorrow though, so, I'll apologise to the kids then; I expect my own apology from their father too.

_**So...? Mrs Mulder...? Mulder's behaviour? Scully's behaviour? Ethan...? Ed...? CSM...?  
Thank you so much for the reviews, keep them coming :)**_


End file.
